


Into The Midnight Sun

by summerwine



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Louis, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Play, Explicit Sexual Content, Historical Accuracy, Historical Inaccuracy, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light Angst, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Spanking, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-03-29 08:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 63,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13923570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/summerwine/pseuds/summerwine
Summary: Every day without Louis was a never ending blue Monday. Every day went without his sweetness and warmth and the radiant colours of his flame. The tenor of his voice became unfamiliar and muddled between going so long without the sound of it and getting lost with every other voice clouding Harry’s memory.But he was here now, warming Harry’s bones with lips like summer. Every moment in his arms felt like a Sunday stroll through London. Beautiful and stormy and feeling every bit like home.or, It's 1983, Harry embarks on his first world tour and Louis is a budding actor in LA. Life spent apart isn't easily adjustable, but somehow they make it work.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A few warnings before we begin. 
> 
> This is a work of fiction. Absolutely NO views portrayed in this fic directly reflect my own. Everything involved is used for only the purpose of storytelling. 
> 
> There is drug use throughout this fic, it was the 80s, and I wrote like it was. There is also bdsm themes which include light bondage, light choking, spanking as punishment, and rough oral sex. There WILL be a scene that includes drug usage before sex. The two characters trust each other, have a very mature and long established relationship, and have a mutual understanding of what they are comfortable with. Both parties explicitly state their thoughts/feelings before anything happens. I do not encourage this and will state once again, it was used for storytelling. 
> 
> I tried to keep homophobia and homophobic language to a minimum. I didn't want hatred to define my story, but it will be mentioned/alluded to/and clearly depicted. The fic takes place at the beginning of the aids crisis, and it will be mentioned here, but not delved into too deeply out of respect. There will be historical accuracies and inaccuracies as the fic goes along, aaaaand again, it's all for the sake of storytelling.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this. I know it's not for everyone but I really hope you'll give it a chance. Thanks for being so kind and patient with me no matter how many times I said this would be out "soon". My goal is to update weekly, and answer any questions you may have about this fic. [ Here](https://open.spotify.com/user/sierrawiggles/playlist/7FQU6bJ69m7PjewHjfcE3Q?si=1Cl1uXv4TP6PuVMXkS1IZw) is the tiny playlist, and here is the gorgeous [ fic art](http://pupperlouis.tumblr.com/post/172393375124/into-the-midnight-sun-by-summerwine-with-a)!
> 
>  
> 
> ***I ask kindly for your feedback, but until then, happy reading!***

**May, 1979**

 

_We’re gonna make it, we’re gonna make it, we’re gonna make it._

The room was a grey haze of bud and other drugs, the clock on the bedside barely visible through the smoky atmosphere. Sweat dripped from the bridge of Harry’s nose and landed against the clammy, feverish skin of his lover. He thrust his hips forward, taking a long drag of their shitty spliff and attaching his lips to the trembling ones beneath him. Tight, velvety heat clenched around his cock, making it bloody near impossible not to chase after the feeling.

“We’re both gonna make it, baby,” Harry drawled as he slowly extracted his lips and leaned to cough away the burning remains of hydroponics. “And when we’re rich, and everyone knows our names, I'm gonna buy you a ring. A fucking gold band with our initials engraved in it.” He groaned as the tight heat pulled him in with every word. “Gonna slip it right on that pretty little finger of yours, and let them all know who you belong to. _Forever_.”

High-pitched whines filled the room as Harry tucked the spliff between his fore and middle fingers and lifted supple legs up over his shoulders.

_Fucking hell,_ that was the angle he was aiming for. There was nothing prettier than the sight of his fucked out boy. Chest red and glistening, eyes glazed over from pleasure and weed, pliant body practically folded in half, clenching, shaking, and panting. Harry always considered himself a gifted musician, but it only ever took one whimpering gasp out of his boy to convince him he would never create a melody so sweet.

“Would you like that, honey?” Harry slammed his cock into his boy’s prostate, relishing in the crisp sound of skin against skin. “Everyone knowing you're spoken for by another man? Hmm?”

“Yeah, Daddy,” Louis panted out as pleasured tears slipped. “Wanna wear your ring— _fuck—_ want it to be the only thing I wear when you fuck me. Wanna get you a ring too, and show it off to everybody. Will you give me that? Will you wear _my_ ring?”

Harry’s eyes rolled into the back of his head at the sound of his words. Voice slightly hoarse and breath being continuously fucked out of him. It was gorgeous. Nothing turned Harry on more than their filthy commitment to each other.

“You know I will, baby. You know it.” Harry began to thrust harder and steadier, feeling the glorious orgasm swell in the pit of his stomach. “We’ll buy a house in America, with lots of land, and a room for just our awards alone.”

Louis giggled through his tears and labored breathing and, _God_ , Harry could not have been more in love with the perfect boy in front of him.

“Just give us time.” Harry fucked faster as he pulled off one last drag of the spliff. “We’re gonna make it. I _know_ it.”

With one final cry, Louis shot off in between them, smearing come and sweat between their sex-spent bodies as Harry filled his arse with his own. Nothing was better than that feeling. Nothing was hotter than coming down from his high and watching his spunk drip from the man he loved. He’d write a song about it if Louis allowed it.

“Love you, baby.” Harry kissed his lips sweetly as he gently removed his legs from his shoulders, and moved to cuddle Louis into his chest. “Love you so much, it's _mad_.”

“Love you, Harry,” Louis breathed out, eyes still a bit fuzzy and his smile as blissed out as ever. “Forever yours.” he vowed. “ _Forever_ ….yours.”

 

_\--_


	2. one

**27 January, 1983**

 

Highway runs knew no bends or rounds, only linear lanes that merged seamlessly into one another. Every jagged edged, every hump, every centrifugal dip, was felt beneath the tour worn tires.

 _Turquoise Trail_ only offered a deceptively colorless reel of dry deadlands, glum mountains, and an unforgiving sunrise that suppressed its rays for no one. Linking Santa Fe and Albuquerque was this highway’s only purpose. Not a trace of turquoise lingering around to remind him of the blue eyes back in the city of angels.

Harry had gone a month without his touch and petal soft lips; and it was still too early in the first leg of the tour to properly forget just how sweet he tasted. The memory alone was making him impossible not to miss, keeping Harry up at night, and getting himself off alone in his bunk - imagining his darling boy, face down in the sheets beneath him, fucking him to sleep and then kissing him awake.

Eleven hours of open road stood between them. Eleven hours of being the closest they’ve been to each other since the moment Harry started this tour in Florida. The distance from home was enough to keep his heart restless, and knowing he would only travel further away once the show lights dimmed, kept him sulking in the lounge of his tour bus. He couldn't wait to get to the next venue and sit down next to a phone. Louis was only ever home during certain hours, and now that they were finally within a one hour time difference, Harry knew he could catch him just before he left for the day.

“About twenty minutes out, lad.”

Harry didn't bother to check who the voice came from. He kept his vision focused on the dusty window in front of him and watched as the miles passed him by. He hoped the venue had a shower so he could clean the settled dust of this town out of the crevices of his body. Let the hot water melt away the lonely feeling that was quickly making a home under his skin.

 _Just a bit longer_ , he reminded himself. Just a bit longer til that sleepy voice would soothe his traveling soul.

 

\--

 

“Hello?”

Harry took a moment to collect himself before responding. The bundle of nerves in his chest and the lump in his throat quickly dissipated at the sound of his lover’s voice. His eyelashes fluttered shut as he breathed in a sigh of relief and curled the telephone wire between the slots of his fingers.

What a comforting sound to hear after so long.

“Good morning, my love.” Harry smiled. _Finally_ , he thought. “Did I wake you?”

“No, no—” Louis lied sleepily through a yawn, and a noise that could only be the sound of a morning’s first stretch. “I was just getting up.”

“Oh, yeah? This early? Busy day ahead of you or...?”

“Mhmm,” Louis lowly hummed through the line. “Have a few auditions this morning, and a screen testing later.”

“That's amazing, sweetheart. You've been smashing it lately.” Harry bit down on another smile, positively swelling with pride for his boy. “Are you nervous?”

“A bit, yeah. I still don't have any friends so I’ve been rehearsing like mad in front of our mirror.” He laughed humorlessly, sleep still thickly coating his every word. “Wish you were here to critique me or tell me if I'm doing alright. I need your honesty and comfort.”

“Just say the word and I'm on the next flight out.” Harry sat up in his seat and clenched his hands around the wire. “You know you always come first. I'll leave right now if you ask me to.”

“God, don't be so dramatic, _Daddy_ ,” he said so casually, as if hearing that specific pet name didn't send Harry’s heart into a fit of flutters—as if he had no idea just how serious Harry was about dropping everything to be with him. “It's too early in your tour to be giving me those type of lines, yeah? We have a whole year to get through, and you have plenty of people to please out there. Masses all over the world.”

He made it sound so easy, as if spending the better part of a year away from him and in front of a different sea of strangers every night was something Harry could just _do._

 _“_ I only ever wanna please you, Lou.” The lump in his throat thickened. The loneliness of the road was beginning to catch up with him. “I know I'm being needy, s’just—I'm just missing you today more than usual. M’sorry.”

“Don't be sorry, H...I miss you, too.” He paused. “I’d love to have you here with me. More than _anything._ But you know I could never ask that of you. It’s your first _world_ tour. I’m so proud of you.”

“I know, baby. I know.” Harry sighed before leaning back in his seat and pressing his fingers into his eyes. “Just want to see you already. Don't wanna wait another bloody second.”

“I'll be down to visit soon.” _Not nearly enough._ “We’ll get high, and fuck on the bus, and spend the whole evening together until you're called up on stage,” Louis planned wistfully, seemingly more awake than he was just seconds ago. “Mmm, I'll finally get to hear you sing again— _God_ —I can't tell you how much I miss having that around the house.”

“Put one of my records on. I'll still sing you to sleep.”

“I have been,” he whispered. “S’just different, you know?”

Harry swallowed hard. Smile slowly slipping off his lips. “Yeah, I know.”

Comfortable silence settled between them. Harry closed his eyes and attached himself to the sound of Louis’s breathing. _God_ , what he wouldn't give to have him cuddled up in his lap, quietly running his lines like he used to, and sharing kisses sweetly between each other. Harry hoped Louis’s heart wasn't nearly as restless as his own.

“What are you thinking about, Harry?”

“You,” Harry answers simply, smirking as he caught the sound of Louis’s soft giggle over the line. “Aww, you like when I flirt with you, baby? Are you blushing right now?”

“Fuck _off_ ,” Louis said around another laugh. Harry could easily picture him smiling into the phone, a pretty shade of pink staining his sinfully carved cheeks. Harry wished he were there to see. “Shit—my alarm is going off.”

Harry’s heart sank slightly. These phone calls were the highs and lows of his day. Being able to talk with his boy brought him out of every slump he put himself in, but having to say goodbye was the hardest part of it all.

“Suppose that's my cue to let you get ready then,” Harry spoke softly over the line, waiting to leave Louis with the soothing sound of his voice. “You'll do great today, yeah? You've worked so hard for this, and I'm proud of you, darling.”

“Thank you,” Louis shyly responded. Praise clearly still affected him, even from hours and miles away. “Call me after your show, yeah? If you're able to.”

“I'll make it happen, don't worry.” Harry’s smile wobbled as he felt their conversation coming to an end. “Can't wait to hear your voice later on. I'll be ringing you soon.”

“Okay,” Louis agreed softly. “Love you.”

“Love you.”

 

***

 

**31 January, 1983**

 

Denver made it easier to breathe. The air was crisp, the snow was thick, and the payphones worked just as well in this type of weather. Even long distance calls to California.

Amongst other conversation, Louis made plans to come out and see him. In a few days he would fly out to Chicago and spend some time with him on his birthday. Harry could not dream up a better gift made just for himself. He was _elated._

With a chipper grin and a skip to his step, he walked through the slushy lot of the of busses, bypassing his own and heading straight for his manager’s. He figured he owed the news of Louis’ arrival to the man that practically worked to keep their secret safe.

A shiver prickled it’s way down every last knob of his spine, a mix of the abrasive cold winds, and the untameable excitement within him. With a huff of his visible breath, Harry knocked sternly against the metallic bus door, and quickly shoved his hands back into his coat pocket.

“Just a second!” he heard muffled from the inside, followed by low clattering, and a hiss of the bus engine.

Harry waited, closing his eyes against the cold. The tips of his lashes caught small flecks of snow and the edge of his cheeks flushed brightly from chills. _Breathe_ , he reminded himself. _You’re out here for good reason._

With that, the bus door opened and out came his manager.

“About bloody time, it’s fucking freezing out here!” Harry tried for a grumble, but couldn’t refrain his genuine smile.

“Shut up.” Jeff replied, his own teeth chattering away. “What are you doing out here?”

“I just needed to make a call back home and the only payphone I could find was outdoors,” Harry shivered. “Is anyone else on your bus right now?”

“No, it’s just me,” Jeff squinted. “why?”

“Oh, um, just had to make sure no one was around,” Harry eyed him with his brows hinting towards the unspeakable topic. “I just thought I’d let you know my boy is flying out to see me. He’ll be joining us for my birthday in Chicago and then he’ll stay on my bus until we reach Detroit. I think he’ll fly back then, or maybe he’ll catch my show first, m’not completely sure what he wants to do yet.”

“Alright,” Jeff nodded, looking around to be sure they were alone in this conversation. “I’ll arrange someone to pick him up and bring him right to you. Do you mind if I call him later and sort all the details out?”

“Of course not, just tell him _I love you,_ for me when you do.”

Jeff rolled his eyes in mock disgust and shook his head against Harry’s laughter.

“You’re both unbearable.” He snarled. “Is there anything else you two need from me?”

“Hmm, OH! Can you also ask him what he’s wearing and if it’s nice and tight? My wank bank is running a bit low these days.”

“Fuck off, Harry.”

Harry smirked widely on a cackle, letting the door slam in front of him before he began to carry himself away. His chest fluttered with relief and anticipation, and his legs began to run with the adrenaline. Louis would be with him soon. Louis’ gentle aura would finally be around to soothe Harry’s mind back to a calmer, more focused state.

Partying a bit with him on his birthday would be a plus as well, and he could not hardly wait to see his lover again.

 

***

 

**2 February, 1983**

 

“Chicago, you've been amazing,” Harry sang over the mic as his band strummed their final riffs behind him. He took one last drag of his burning spliff - his third free one of the night. Word about his birthday must have gotten out; he'd never been offered so many free drugs and fresh roses in his life. “Thanks for all the love tonight. We’ll see you all again soon!”

Fireworks shot off behind him as he paid the crowd one final bow, their screams beyond deafening and the stage lights nothing short of blinding.

Harry was lost in the surrealness of it all, thinking of his life just years ago playing in shitty pubs and music halls at best. The chaos of the arena was always a bit overwhelming, causing Harry to run off stage and not look back at the faceless sea behind him.

A wireless phone was shoved into Harry’s chest the moment he made it off stage. Stoned out of his mind and adrenaline pumping vigorously through his veins, he hardly had time to realize he'd never actually held one of these things before.

“It’s Louis,” Jeff, whispered-yelled under his breath. “I gave him the number to this line in case of emergency. Mobile only allows thirty minutes of talk time and he's been waiting for about ten—make it quick.”

 _Shit_. Harry nodded his head rapidly and ran to find a private corridor.

Crew members lurked around every corner. Faces he knew and others he has never seen eyed him, followed his movements, and stuck their bloody noses where they didn't belong. He probably looked panicked, or frightened, his eyes bloodshot and breathing labored.

Louis was meant to visit him after the show. Something they've both been looking forward to since the day Harry rang him in Colorado. But even in his altered state of mind, he knew that Louis calling their emergency line could not be good.

Without a second thought, Harry shouldered his way through the first door in sight and slammed it shut behind him. The room was empty save for a dirty mop and various cleaning supplies. Nobody would find him here, he was sure.

“Lou? You there?” Harry held his breath as he awaited his reply.

“Yeah, I'm here. I'm….” His voice cut off with a sad tone.

“Where are you? What's wrong?”

Harry’s chest constricted with worry. It physically pained him not knowing anything on his whereabouts and knowing he couldn't protect him if he needed to.

“I don't wanna do this to you, Harry,” he cried. “I hate this. I _hate_ disappointing you.”

“Just talk to me, baby. We don't have a ton of time.”

Louis’s voice cracked with emotion. The sound of his cry was more deafening than the screams he experienced just moments ago.

“I'm still in LA.”

The reality of his words were sobering - momentarily numbing Harry to the bone.

He wasn't going to see Louis tonight. He wouldn't be able to hold him in his arms or kiss his perfect smile off his pretty face. He would go another night in his bunk alone. Another night falling asleep to the hum of the bus and not the sound of Louis’s breathing. God, did that hurt.

“I'm sorry, Harry, I'm so sorry,” Louis whimpered, voice shrill with guilt. “I was on my way out the door, and I heard the telephone ring, and I thought maybe it was _you_ ringing me, so I answered, and I—and I—”

“Shh, my love, it's okay. Just breathe,” Harry soothed, successfully masking the pain in his own voice. “It'll be alright, yeah? Just tell me what happened.”

“I got the part, Harry. The one I screen tested for–I got it–it's _mine!_ I finally landed something and I have to meet with the producers in the morning.”

“ _Christ,”_

Harry was bursting with pride, yet selfishly crumbling under the fact that he wasn't there with him, to wrap him up in his arms and celebrate all the success headed towards his career. Louis was twenty nine _fucking_ hours away. And alone. Harry couldn't fathom just how bittersweet it must have been for him.

“Are you upset with me?” Louis’ gentle voice broke through the line.

“No! God, _No._ Of course not, Louis. I'm so incredibly proud of you. You deserve this so, _so,_ much.” Harry slid against the back of the door and buried his face in his hand. “I just—I would love to be there with you, yeah? Such a pivotal moment in your life and I'm halfway across America.”

“We could have shared this, had I made it out there.”

“No, don't do that, babe. Come on.”

“But it's your birth–”

“I don’t care about my birthday,” Harry snapped, unintentionally loud in the vacant room. His emotions gone haywire from adrenaline, pot, and missing Louis, all catching up with him. “I don't care that I'm another year older. Seeing you was all I was looking forward to.”

“I'm sorry,” Louis whispered through a sniffle. “I didn't mean to upset you.”

“No–God, I'm...I’m coming off the wrong way. M’not blaming you. M’not upset with you. I'm so happy for you, Lou. You have absolutely _nothing_ to apologize for, and I completely understand why you stayed. None of this is on you, alright?” Harry promised.

“Then why do I feel so guilty?”

“That's my fault,” he sighed and scrubbed his palm against his face. “I built up seeing you so much over the last few days, and here I am making it about myself. I'm sorry, love. Take it out on your prick of a man, yeah? Go out and celebrate this, all expenses on me.”

A bit of self deprecation always got a laugh out of Louis. Even if it was slightly wet and overall humorless, at least he wasn't croaking through the line anymore.

“God, I miss you so much, Harry. It's all I could think about these past few days.”

“Yeah?” Harry drawled as his stomach ignited with flutters. He loved when Louis allowed himself to be this vulnerable with him. “Well, I miss you t–”

Harry was harshly cut off by the piercing sound of a repetitive beep, his lover's sweet presence taken too soon for his liking. Gone before he could properly resolve everything and be truly sure that Louis was just fine.

He smashed the phone to the floor below him, accidentally taking out all of his frustrations and anger on the hard block of plastic. A few thousand pounds of technology broken into pieces around him, and he genuinely could not be less arsed.

Harry didn't even get to say goodbye, or break a leg, or goodnight. Couldn't properly express just how extremely _proud_ he was. Couldn't even utter out an _I love you._

Harry knocked his head back against the door, clenching his eyes shut, and refusing to let himself cry. It wouldn’t be fair to Louis. He missed him, of course, but what LA had to offer wasn’t something Harry could give to him.

Louis deserved it. Louis earned it. Harry would be nothing short of the proud partner he needed to be. It wouldn’t be right to sit and sulk over the absence of his boy. Not here, at least.

A faint knock rattled against the door, startling Harry into a quick standing position. He kicked the remains of the broken wireless phone to the side and slowly opened the door.

“Hey.” Jeff eyed Harry sympathetically. “I wasn't eavesdropping, I swear, I just didn't want anyone to walk by and find you, or...you know.”

“Catch wind of Louis and me?”

Jeff offered a helpless shrug and Harry rolled his eyes irritatedly. He was in love with another man. Big _fucking_ deal. Homosexuality had been decriminalized for _ages._ When would he finally be able to feel like he didn't have to tiptoe around people he ought to trust? “Thanks for watching out, lad, but I think I'm ready to fuck off for the night.”

“Nah, man. It's your birthday! We’ve got a few lines and a cake waiting for you on bus three.”

“No, thank you, Jeff.”

Harry pushed through the door and slammed it shut behind him. The sweat from the show was still sticking to his skin and his oily curls tickled behind his ears. He felt disgusting.

“Not even a line with the guys? You only turn twenty seven once.”

“No, you know I don't do that stuff without Louis,” Harry rejected as he began to make his way out to the buses. “You lot can do whatever you want. I just want to celebrate quietly, in my bus with the curtains drawn.”

“Alright, fine.” Jeff struggled to keep up with Harry’s long strides. “But at least join us for cake? Some of the crew members were nice enough to go into town and get you a carrot one. Nobody wants that shit, it's really just for you.”

“Christ, _alright,”_ Harry stressed as he ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “But after that none of you lot are allowed on my bus, yes? Unless you're bringing me Louis, I don't want to see you.”

“Damn,” Jeff recoiled at Harry’s tone. “Would another phone call pull you out of this mood?”

Harry stopped in his tracks, immediately eyeing his slightly-winded manager, and checking to be sure nobody was around them.

“Find me a payphone, and get Louis on the line, and I'll even go as far as _joining_ you in tonight's festivities.”

“Alright, deal. Wait right here.”

Harry didn't hold his breath. He knew that there wasn't a payphone anywhere in the backstage area, he checked before the show. But it at least it got Jeff off his back for now.

Harry waited for him to be out of sight before sighing and making his way towards the buses. God, he needed a shower. He could only hope that Detroit would be so kind to supply him with one.

The chilly air nipped at his face as he headed completely outdoors. Thin layers of dirty snow slightly crunched beneath his feet, and his boots left behind sad ghosts of footprints.

Weather like this reminded him of all the times Louis said he missed English winters.

_It never snows in California, Harry. Can we get a winter home in Cheshire?_

Fuck, he missed him so much—couldn't wait to speak to him again, whenever that would be. He just hoped there would be a solid connection and enough time to fill the distance.

 

***

**14 February, 1983**

 

Boston was vicious.

An unexpected snow storm had slicked the roads with dirty ice and slush, the heat on the empty bus did nothing to warm Harry’s bones, and the possibility of speaking to Louis anytime soon was slim to none.

It was their first Valentine's Day apart, not that the date held significance with them. It was just a lovely excuse to spoil Louis rotten and watch strawberry juice slip from the corners of his lips. The memories of their past Valentines together only fueled the desperate longing for his boy back home.

Harry buried his face in his glove covered palms, thinking that now would be the perfect opportunity to have a stress relieving cry, with not a soul on the bus to pick or pry, and no one around to witness him in a state so unrecognizably vulnerable.

But he refused. Thought about Louis and how Louis wouldn't have it. How he would remind him that he was on the road, living out his dream, and that shedding even a single tear over missing him would be an awful waste of time.

He would want Harry to get the most out of this experience. Smash it on stage nightly, party a bit too hard, and create a unique memory for every city he played in. Not sulk to himself on a nearly snowed-in bus.

Louis was proud of him, and stood by him, even as life on the west coast carried on for him and his career. He was the best boy, and Harry owed it to him to not cave in and pity himself.

A hefty knock thud against the bus door. Whoever the person on the other side was, _blatantly_ ignored Harry’s request to be left alone until show time. With a roll of his stiff neck, and a stubborn sigh, Harry thrust himself off the sofa in his lounge and carefully pushed the door open.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, mate.” Sarah, his band mate and long time friend, shivered through her words. Clear blue eyes squinting against the wind and skin paling by the second. “I know you wanted to be left alone, but I just wanted to give you this. I think it might help a bit with your homesickness.”

She pulled a bag from off her thickly coated shoulder and struggled just a bit with lifting it up towards Harry.

“Christ, what is this?” Harry griped as the weight of the leather bag dug into his palm.

“About two years worth of stationery and ink.” She shrugged as she dug her hands deep into the warmth of her coat pockets. “Jeff told me about your disconnected call the other week and how you sort of...lost it. He said the label threw a right fit when they found out you smashed up their prototype.”

Harry chuckled for the first time that day, a genuine smile spreading across his dry lips and the feeling of laughter warming him from head to toe. Sarah was always a good at that, one of those golden people who knew what to say to lift someone from their mood.

“Anyway, I've found that letters are always a sure bet, at least on your side. They're a bit more personal, too.” She cut herself off with a nervous pause, as if she was searching for the right words to say, carefully choosing how to phrase them. “You should send one to that flatmate of yours, yeah? Louis, is it?” she offered with curious eyes and a hesitant smile.

Oh, fuck. _Fuck._ Harry has known Sarah for ages. Since before his name was embellished with lights, and long before he ever met Louis. She never gave him a reason to believe she would be anything less than accepting, but fear manifested itself within his chest anyway.

“Maybe even send a few a day for him to look forward to when he gets home. I'm sure he would like that.”

“Y-yeah, yeah.” Harry trembled as his mouth went dry. “Uh—I haven't checked in for a while, I should probably write and ask how my plants are doing, or—something.”

“Harry.” Sarah smirked at him, seemingly all too knowing.

Harry’s heart was in his throat. He could feel the blood rushing through his veins and his head spinning with _what if’s._

What if she _knew_? What if she told someone? What if she believed in every brainless stigma involuntarily assigned to him? Fuck, his nerves were beginning to bubble to the surface. He hoped fervently that his internal worry wasn’t as visible on his face.

“I write my ‘flatmate' everyday, Harry. I _get it._ She loves hearing from me, and I love hearing from her, but we don't always get that opportunity with the time differences.” Sarah shrugged again, this time with a lift of her brow. “When I miss her, I write her little letters about my day, and about how something reminded me of her, and she really appreciates them. Just letting her know I’m thinking about her through this tour, even while we’re not in touch, it means a lot to her, and it allows me to get out of my own head for a minute.”

A moment passed between them where Sarah paused to gather herself and Harry let her words soak in. He had never seen her this honest and open, so vulnerable and trusting. Harry felt privileged to be able to hear her out.

“I've seen how it upsets you when your calls go unanswered, for whatever reason. You feel like they're the only person in the world you can fully be yourself with, and unload on without judgement, or preconceived ideas, and when that _one_ person doesn't pick up, it's quite isolating. I just want you to know I'm going through it right along with you, mate. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

Harry’s hands uncurled from around the leather strap as the realization calmed his nerves, and extinguished his embers of fear. Without directly coming out, Sarah confirmed that Harry's situation was understood, and experienced all the same.

Oddly, it was quite comforting. Felt like he could breathe a bit easier knowing he wasn't as alone on this tour as he once thought he was. Harry would have never realized had she not so bravely shared this with him.

“I do, I do. I completely understand.” Harry’s dimple cut into his cheek as Sarah blushed through a bashful laugh. “So...flatmates, eh? Out of everything, who would've guessed we’d have that bit in common?”

The two of them giggled together through the pelting of the snow storm. Relating to each other in a way that was so unexpected. At least, to Harry it was.

“People like you and me are a lot more common than society wants us to think, lad. And it's really important that we all support each other when we can.”

A weight lifted off Harry’s shoulders as they stood in comfortable silence and came to terms with their similarities. She was so soft spoken, so incredibly calming. He just wished there was a way for both of them to realise this sooner.

“Alright, it's bloody freezing out here. I'm going back inside. Show time is in a few hours, yeah? The rest of us would love for you to be there.”

“I won’t let you down.” Harry smiled as she backed up away from the bus. “And thank you, Sarah,” he said earnestly. “For bringing me this, for sharing a private part of yourself with me, for understanding, for _everything_. It means a lot, yeah?”

She nodded in understanding and began to trek back indoors. “Tell Louis I said hello and to quit being such a stranger.” She winked.

“I will.” Harry waved her off before moving to shut himself back inside the bus. “I will.”

 

\--

 

_Louis,_

_This almost feels like I've gone off to war and I'm sending you one last love letter before heading into battle. Luckily, this is just a way for me to communicate with you at all hours of the day and night, regardless of if you can reply or not. I hope you won't mind me sending these. There is so much hurry up and wait throughout my days, and writing to you is the only way I want to pass the time._

_The snow is rigid in Boston. Every time I wipe the fog from the bus window, there's a new layer of white sticking to every surface. It reminds me of our time together in London. Spending all of November ‘81 inside pubs so we wouldn't have to go back to a flat without heat. It makes me miss the way you shiver and how you pull me in closer._

_It's selfish how much I want you here._

_It's selfish how much I miss the warmth of your tongue and the heat between your thighs. I see your curves in the shape of winding roads and rolling hills. I feel your lips in the rose petals that litter my feet at the end of each show, every night. It's in vain that I envy the sheets that drape across your skin. Warming you. Touching you. Holding you through the night while I'm away. It's selfish the way I miss your smile and the gentle tone of your heartbeat._

_I'm in love with a dreamer and I'm in love with your dreams. But the beast inside of me misses you more each day, and wishes I could look out into the crowd and see you singing along like you used to. Instead, I'm counting the days and all their hours until New York. Until we’re together again. I can't wait to see you with the city as your backdrop. I can't wait to listen to all of your new life experiences and make a few of our own. I'll meet you in the lobby of The Carlyle. Until then…._

_All my love,_

_Harry._

 

_***_

 

**20 February, 1983**

 

New York City welcomed Harry with nothing short of wealth and pompous. The limousine was stocked with brandy and blow, chauffeuring him and his band through the sophisticated streets of Manhattan, and right up to the infamous doors of The Carlyle; A resting place for New York’s best kept scandals, masked in luxury and Art Deco.

Harry sort of hated it. Hated that he didn't fit in with designer-clad tossers and the secrets they kept behind these walls, even if he may share that last bit with them, once Louis arrived.

 _Finally_. A whole week off in New York with his lover by his side _._ Harry stepped from the limousine with a stomach full of nerves and an adrenalised smile. He wore his heart on his sleeve when it came to Louis, and if a bit of excitement showed on his face, he was sure nobody would think anything of it.

“What's got you giddy, Styles?” his bassists’ voice pulled him from his daydreams. “You've never been to The Big Apple before?”

“Afraid not, Adam,” Harry replied through hooded eyes and a lazy smirk on his face. He couldn't exactly wax poetic about his boy arriving soon, so, he figured he'd just go with it. “S’quite exciting for just a Cheshire lad, innit?”

Bellhops swarmed the ins and outs of their limousine, rounding up bags and luggage, quickly hauling them up to each of their rooms. Stellar service. Harry still could have carried his shit up himself.

“Harry!” Jeff called from the doorway and urgently waved him inside.

Harry nodded at the doorman as he briskly walked through the narrow entrance. Posh fixtures hung from the ceiling above and sleek black floors creaked subtly beneath his boots. Women behind the front desk eyed him with a hint of curiosity and nosy bystanders did the same. He knew nothing that happened here would leave these halls, but it was still a bit unfortunate that he was so easily recognized.

“S’nice here innit, Jeff?” Harry turned to slowly take in the atmosphere. “Can't imagine why they would agree to let us stay here.”

“Please, you're not the first group of rockstars to crash here.” Jeff rolled his eyes and tugged him slightly over to the the side. “I need to talk to you...it's about Louis.”

Harry's heart plummeted. Giddiness and excitement vanished from the lines in his face as worry and panic paled his skin. Jeff’s tone alone rattled the nerves within him, making him shiver and go nearly breathless. Harry wouldn't know what he would do if anything happened to him.

“What's going on?” Harry questioned with urgency.

“I called your home line a few hours before we arrived here, and he just—he didn't pick up...” Jeff spoke in a hushed tone.

“Okay?” Harry's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “And? Get on with it!”

Jeff scrubbed a hand over his face, clearly attempting to paint the emotions of stress and exhaustion. Harry was losing his cool with every millisecond that passed.

“And...that means he's on his way. Should be here in the late afternoon.” A shit eating grin spread across his face, and Harry would have strangled him if it weren't in a public space.

“You arsehole, I thought something happened to him!” Harry firmly shoved at his his shoulder. “I'll wring your bloody neck if you do that again.”

“Not before you thank me for this room I upgraded you to. It's pretty ace; I think Bowie and the Kennedy's have stayed in the same suite.” Jeff handed over two room keys as Harry stood confused.

“Wh—why? What?”

“Just think of it as a belated birthday gift from Louis and me.” Jeff winked and patted him against the back, before moving to sort out everyone else's rooms.

Harry thumbed the edges of the room keys and bit down on an impressed smile.

No one was sweeter than his boy. Planning something so special for them right under his nose. Harry was a lucky fucking man, and he intended to show Louis how much he was appreciated.

 

\--

 

Three drinks in, and another on its way, Harry sat motionless and alone in the center of the lobby.

His pinstriped suit laid loosely buttoned down his bare torso, now making him warm and uncomfortable where he once felt dapper. His carefully quiffed curls, now deflated to loose tousled waves against his forehead, and the language of his body now conveyed unapproachable.

Harry had been staring at the same revolving door for _hours_. Hoping. Waiting. Expecting Louis to push through it like he was meant to in the late afternoon.

Darkness had fully consumed the day by now and there has yet to be a single trace of him. Harry was stewing in his disappointment and allowing the hard liquor to infest his thoughts with negativity.

He _assumed_ Louis would give him a bit of warning before just not showing up at all. _Assumed_ that he would at least answer the multiple calls to their home line if he had no intentions of meeting Harry here. But he didn't, and Harry couldn't understand why.

Louis seemed rather into this trip when they planned it out a year ago. Led Harry to believe he was counting down the hours right along with him, and even went as far as comforting Harry with the promise of his arrival.

If he wasn't coming, what was the bloody point of the room upgrade? Was that his way of apologizing for not showing? Harry couldn't wrap his head around it. It didn't make any sense.

“Styles,”

Harry heard from his left, and was met with the sight of his sharply dressed and shaggy haired band mates, minus Sarah.

“We’re scoping out the nightclubs in Manhattan,” Adam addressed before taking a long drag of his spliff. Not caring if anyone around saw him do it. “You in?”

The rational side of Harry instinctively said _no._ That his favorite boy would be here soon and he should be waiting for him when he arrived. The muddled and alcohol induced side, however, told him to get real. _He would have been here by now._

Harry's heart was broken and he was frustrated and lonely. He could go back up to his suite and have a drunken, messy, fit over it, or he could spend a night out with his mates, and put it on hold for the evening - avoid his emotions, get into trouble with the lads, and drink until he couldn't remember why he started in the first place.

His restless hands dug into the leather seat beneath him as he convinced himself to go against his better judgement. He was all dressed up for a night out anyway. Might as well put his bare chest and pinstriped suit to use. _Fuck,_ he would regret this.

“I'm in.”

 

***

 

**21 February, 1983**

 

Morning light washed every luxurious detail of Harry’s suite in muted shades of gray. Soft rain pelting against the window doused the city in gloom and murk.

It's how he expected New York in February to be, but he didn't expect his mood to match. His heart still ached as he rolled over onto his back and shielded his eyes from minimal sunlight. Head throbbing and chest heaving, he struggled to hold down the taste of tequila burning in his throat.

His memory was painted black - couldn't even recall _one_ pesky detail from the night before.

Cringing at the burn of his fifth shot, and letting the liquid spill against his chest, was the last thing he remembered. As he looked down, he saw his skin was still sticky and his suit had been completely discarded. How did he manage to fully undress himself? How did he even make it up to his floor?

A soft hum of coming from his en suite shocked Harry out of his resting state, causing him to jolt up in bed, and wince at the shooting pain in his temples. There was never a chance he’d ever take anyone back with him. Never a chance anyone could have gotten up to his room without a key or his permission.

Harry panicked as he looked down at his bruised and scratched up body. His knees torn to shreds and spots of violet dotting his skin.

What happened last night?

Harry was suffocating. Choking on the thought of a stranger being on the other side of his ensuite door. His nerves had him frozen to the spot; Inconsolable fear gnawed at the surface of his ruined skin.

The low hum went quiet, and the only sounds filling the room were Harry’s pounding heart, and the blood rushing through his veins.

He was going to be sick. Acidity from the alcohol in his system steadily climbed to the top of his choked up throat. The ensuite door slowly creaked open, and Harry had never been so close to collapsing in his life.

Dainty feet tiptoed against cool floors as soft fringe was pushed away from blue eyes. Louis slipped on a jumper of Harry’s and left his tan and flawless thighs bare. He bent over to retrieve a pair of briefs, dragging them up his legs, and letting them ride up high.

Harry was _sure_ he was dreaming. Even considered that this could all be one mad trip.

“Lou?” His voice sounded like shit. The inside of his mouth tasted like it too.

Louis looked up from the front of the bed, blue eyes tired, and forced smile appearing just as quickly as it disappeared. No _good morning_ . No _hello_. No falling into bed and welcoming each other with honey sweet kisses. Just Louis acknowledging his existence and swiftly exiting out of the room into the sitting area.

Something wasn't right and it couldn't be good.

His banged up and sleep deprived body _begged_ Harry to stay put, to not even bother and let it be worked out when he was less sore and well rested, but his stubborn heart wouldn't have it. His boy was clearly upset and that's the opposite of how he wanted him to feel after seeing him for the first time in ages.

And he was _actually_ here. Harry was elated and was dying to greet him properly.

The massive bed creaked beneath his weight as he moved to stand up carefully, not bothering to slip on pants, or attempt cover his bits. Dizzy and unsteady on his feet, Harry followed the low sound of the telly, and padded towards the ottoman Louis was perched upon.

He looked soft to the touch. Smaller than Harry remembered. It could've been the size of his jumper slipping past his fingertips, or it could've been time playing tricks on Harry’s memory.

“Baby,” Harry whispered against Louis’ neck, wrapping his arms around his tiny waist and pulling his warm body back against his chest. He smelled like home. He felt like heaven. “Good morning. I've missed you so much.”

Louis remained silent and unmoving as Harry worked his sleepy lips against his neck and dug his greedy hands into the dips of his curves. Harry was so invested in the taste and feel of Louis that he didn't immediately register the irritable clench of his jaw.

“Get off of me,” Louis whispered as he rolled his shoulder to push Harry away.

“Hmm?” Harry hummed hesitantly as he removed his hands from his waist. “What—what's wrong? I just want to hold y—”

“You don't get to treat me the way you did last night and wake up as if everything is alright.” Louis frustratedly brushed Harry away.

“What are you on about?” Harry kneeled to Louis’ side and softly gripped his thigh. “This is the first I've seen of you. How did you—when did you—”

“Of course you don't remember the shit show you put on last night.” Louis crossed his leg over the other, subtly removing Harry’s hold on him.

“Babe, I was blindingly pissed last night, I'm sorry for anything I did, but—I honestly can't remember.” Harry moved over to kneel before him, swiping his thumb up under Louis’ puffy eyes, head still pounding from his hangover. “Can you tell me more about it?”

“I really don't even want to look at you right now, Harry, can you please just go?” His voice gave away just how hurt he was, and if it weren't for his desperate cling on Harry’s wrist, Harry would've listened.

“Lou, I just need to know what happened. _Clearly_ you're still upset over it and I want to work it out. I didn't even know you were here—I thought—fuck, I thought you weren’t going to show up.”

“Well, I did, and I don't want to talk about last night. Just go back to bed.”

“You think I'll get any rest _knowing_ I've upset you and you're out here sulking alone?”

“Do _you_ think I want to bloody fight with you all morning? All over again? I had enough of that last night.”

“No, Louis, God.” Harry took his hands between his own and winced through his head’s throbbing pain. “The last thing I want to do is fight with you while you're here, but we need to talk it out, yeah? I want to make this right.”

Louis withdrew his hands; wiping at his face and crossing his arms over his chest as Harry sat back on his haunches. His knees were on fire and shaking in pain, but Harry ignored it for the sake of hearing Louis out.

“Start from the beginning, yeah? When did you even get here? Why didn’t you call—”

“My connecting flight was delayed for hours because of ice on the runway, and I couldn't even call you cos I didn't have enough change for a pay phone.” Louis shook his head, slightly embarrassed by his own words. “I arrived around half eleven, and by then you were already gone with _both_ keys, and there was nothing the front desk or Jeff could do until you got back. So, we waited.”

“I was sure you wouldn't show up, babe. I'm sorry.” Harry thumbed the skin of Louis’ knees. “That's why I went out. That's why I got so bloody smashed.”

Louis’ lip quivered as he darted his face away. Harry wished he could take it all back. Whatever damage he's done that he pathetically couldn’t remember. Louis didn't deserve this. He deserved to be laid out on their hotel bed with Harry halfway between his legs.

“You've never spoken to me they way you did last night. I wish I never had to see that side of you.”

Harry swallowed hard with guilt, wincing as he prepared himself for the cringeworthy details.

“What did I say, honey? Tell me everything,” Harry encouraged gently as Louis fumbled with his bottom lip.

“You were so trashed, Harry. I could smell you before you got through the door—which, you actually stumbled through and cut up your knees pretty badly—but you were smiling and laughing, so, I assumed all was well.” Harry comforted his trembling body with his touch, silently assuring Louis to take his time and get it all out. “I wasn't sure if I was allowed to get up and greet you, but I went to help you up anyway, and when you saw me—”

Louis cut himself off with a choke. No tears, just emotion quickly catching up with him, and making it seemingly hard to breathe.

“Hey, it's alright,” Harry soothed. “Just talk to me, babe.”

“When you saw me, it was like a switch flipped. You were so loud, and brash, and so unlike yourself, asking what I was doing there, and—and—no one could tell what you were saying, or if you were angry or excited, but they knew you were speaking to me.” Louis squeezed his eyes shut and visibly cringed at the memory. “Jeff had to pull me away cos your pricks for bandmates started to shout at me as well, as if I was just some sort of invasive fan or something. Of course, that didn’t sit well with you. You didn’t like how they spoke to me and that caused you to completely lose it, and shout back. That's where all your stupid bruises came from. Things just got really out of hand really quickly; you're lucky it was broken up before something serious happened. Thankfully they let me drag your drunk arse up here.”

Harry vaguely recalled the pain of hands being jabbed and prodded against his front. Suit jacket being ripped from his shoulders as someone pulled him away and separated him up against a wall.

That's likely where his headache came from, along with the scratches and bruises. Harry wasn't a fighter. Not by any means.

Harry was drowning in guilt. Lungs collapsing under the weight of being so awfully irresponsible and causing so many problems that could have easily been avoided. Harry could only hope all sides would accept his apologies and take his word that it never happen again. It wouldn't.

“Your shit didn't quite stop there,” Louis continued. “Once we were up here, you fought me on _everything_. Like a bloody child. You wouldn't let me help you up or help clean your cuts—you wouldn't even let me help you get undressed. I get you were pissed, but I could only put up with so much before I just left you to yourself. You just... _God_. You had a _really_ messy night last night.”

“Hey,” he gathered a shaking Louis in his arms and rocked him gently in a sway. Harry felt horrible. Rightfully so. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you or upset you, Louis.”

“I just—I just don’t understand how you got to that level.” Louis croaked into Harry’s neck and dug his fingers into his sore skin. “It’s never gotten to the point where I couldn’t take care of you. That was really troubling for me.”

“I’m sorry, love. I convinced myself that you weren't coming at all and I dug myself into a really shitty place last night. I know being pissed doesn't justify anything, and I wish I could take it all back, but I'm sorry I acted like an arse. It's not fair to you or anyone else. I’m sorry, baby. M’so sorry.”

Harry held Louis in his arms, indulging in the feel of his body but wishing it weren't for such ugly reasons. The least he could do was console him, whisper apologies into his fringe and press kisses where his lips could reach. Louis’ breathing slowly began to even out as he pulled Harry closer and squeezed him tight.

Harry winced at the pain but didn't dare make a sound. Figured the punishment fit the crime.

Louis pulled back from their embrace, quickly wiping his face free from any stress and doing his best to pull himself together. Harry watched from his knelt position on the floor. Tired eyes, rosey nose and all, Louis was still the most beautiful earth angel to ever walk into his life.

“I don't want to be upset with you,” Louis croaked and exhaustedly looked Harry in the eyes. “I've missed your ugly mug too much. Like, I want to strangle you, but I want to kiss you even more.”

“I'm into both if you're up for it?” Harry teased and finally got a half smile out of his boy.

He leaned in with a smirk, closing his eyes and puckering his lips for the morning’s first kiss, but was effectively stopped by a foot pressing gently into his chest.

“You haven't earned that yet, and you're not kissing me until you wash up,” Louis teased back as he slowly slid the back of his leg up and over Harry’s shoulder, and sniffled away the remains of sadness. “You smell of last nights tequila.”

Harry felt guilt wash over him once more. The smell alone being a toxic reminder of everything he put Louis through. He wished there was a way to wipe the slate clean. He knew it wasn't possible, but would work for it nonetheless.

“I'm sorry, Louis. For everything.” Harry kissed the inside of Louis’s knee and rubbed his hands soothingly over his skin. “How can I make it up to you? I'll do anything.”

“Nothing you really can do, H. It's over and done with now. I just want you to learn from this and have a little more faith in me next time.”

“Of course, babe. This will never happen again, I promise you.” Harry curled his palms around Louis’ legs, forcing a shiver and a coy smile out of him. “Sorry you had to fall in love with such a lightweight. Will you forgive me?”

“You'll have to do better than that, rockstar.” Louis leaned back on his palms, spreading his legs in the process. So much unmarked skin that Harry could be tending to.

“Um, h-how so?” Harry stuttered distractedly.

“Beg.” Louis cocked his head with a satisfied smirk.

The roles were usually reversed. Louis down on his knees and Harry making him beg. They both took immense pleasure in it - the slight humiliation and the open trust and vulnerability of it all. It got them hot and got them off, but in this case, Harry was begging for forgiveness, and Louis was purposely being cheeky for imitating one of their scenes.

Two could play that game.

“Lou,” Harry kissed down inside of Louis’s thigh. “Baby”— another—“Honey,”—and another. “My sweet boy, I messed up _bad_. Could you find it in your big heart to forgive me?” Harry watched Louis’s eyes glassed over as he flicked out his tongue and teasingly bit against Louis’s flawless skin, white teeth beaming against the tan colour. “Please?”

Louis tucked his lip between his teeth, squirming in his place and leaning back further as Harry sucked and bit against the leg tossed over his shoulder. Harry continued his path down to the crease of his thigh, his own cock stiffening at the barely audible whimpers slipping past Louis’s mouth. Fuck, and his smell did everything to lure him in.

“Please, please, forgive me,” Harry continued as he spread Louis’s legs further and gave his unclothed cock a stroke of its own. “I’m so sorry, princess. M’not worthy.”

“ _Harry_ —” Louis panted.

“You forgive me?”

“No,” Louis replied on an exhale. “Not—not even close.”

Harry kissed back down Louis’ thigh, pushing him back fully, and hovering over the fabric of his hole.

“You sure about that?” Harry prodded his tongue against the flavourless material, smirking devilishly as Louis squirmed closer to his face. “Sure I'm not forgiven?”

Harry gripped Louis’ thighs with both hands, tossing them carefully over his shoulders and holding them there effortlessly.

With his teeth bared and material in his way, Harry bit down against the waistband of Louis’ briefs and began to slowly pull them—

“ _Fuck_ –okay, I forgive you. I forgive you!” Louis breathed shakily, removing his legs and struggling to sit up properly. “Get in the bloody shower so I can stand to have your mouth on me.”

“You forgive me?” Harry grinned, doing everything he could to hold down a laugh.

“Yes, yes, I _do_. Can you please get on with it now? I‘ve missed you so much. I need this.”

“Alright, relax, I'm going.” Harry stood up unsteadily, blood rushing back to his torn up knees, and headache making itself _painfully_ prominent again.

Just another reminder that Harry wouldn't let himself off so easily.

With an unflinching look and a hint of guilt, Harry locked eyes with Louis and began to speak softly.

“I'm really sorry, Louis. I am. I know apologies can only fix so much, but I won't hurt you like this again, and I'll work everyday to mend this and earn every bit of your forgiveness.” Harry bent to press a kiss to the crown of Louis’ head, cradling his face gently. “Love you.”

Louis smiled up at him, graceful eyes twinkling between Harry’s undeserving hands. It was hard to believe he was real, and that stuck around for this long. Must be love.

“Love _you_.”

 

***

 

**22 February, 1983**

 

“Keep your hands to yourself.”

From a private booth up above New York’s Majestic Theater, Harry lowly reprimanded Louis’s wandering hands as the play went on before them.

On a whim, Harry decided to indulge in one of the city's most cliche attractions. Figured Louis, being the actor that he is, would _love_ broadway and fawn over the live performance in front of him. Figured he would be on the edge of his seat with his eyes wide and full of wonder. He wasn't, however. He was actually quite needy, squirming around in his seat and watching Harry’s profile rather than the show.

Louis tapped his delicate fingers against Harry’s knees and walked them slowly up toward his cock.

It was driving Harry _mad_ , but he refused to let it show.

“I want you,” Louis moaned as he leaned in to whisper in Harry’s ear. “You can't dress this sharp and expect me behave. I'd rather be bent over your lap right now.”

Louis trailed his finger against Harry’s unbuttoned suit jacket and lightly tugged on the sheer fabric of his pink button down. Harry polished up tonight. Even went as far as mousing his curly hair and teasing it up to acceptable heights. Louis couldn't keep his hands off him. Spent nearly an hour just kissing him and moaning at the feel of Harry’s gentle lip stubble.

“If you don't behave, you _will_ be bent over my lap,” Harry mouthed through clenched teeth. “Now, be quiet.”

Louis’ mumbled fit went unacknowledged.

Harry forced himself to pay attention to the production and not give in to the desperate boy beside him. It was _rough_. The two of them haven't had a moment to be intimate between sight seeing and band meetings all jam packed into the last twenty four hours. It was no surprise Louis was ready to pounce the second he knew he could. Even if that meant putting Harry at risk for a public erection.

Harry became hyper-aware of the hand creeping up his thigh, gripping the inseam of his trousers and slowly traveling in the direction of his groin. He halted Louis’s movements before he could reach his destination, lacing their fingers together tightly and leaning over to whisper into his ear.

“Keep it up and I won't allow you to come _once_ , tonight,” Harry chided with a clenched jaw and hardened grip on his hand.

“Harry, please,” Louis whined as he softly stroked his thumb over Harry’s fist. “I haven't even touched myself since you left. I _need_ this.”

“Then you'll do as I say and sit still until the show is over, yes?”

Louis rolled his eyes but licked his lips in compliance, anyway. Nothing was prettier than the sight of his boy submitting. Even to the smallest of directions.

“Yes,” he sighed irritatedly.

“Yes, who?” Harry looked from his eyes down to his stubborn lips, patiently awaiting his favourite phrase.

“Yes, Daddy.”

 

\--

 

Louis’ pleas never ceased at the theatre, breathlessly begging to leave during the interval and inevitably getting his way when he began to palm himself over his trousers.

Harry snatched his hand away and led him down to their awaiting limousine. He feigned disappointment as Louis threw himself all over him. Kissing him. Touching him. Grinding his desperate hips down over Harry’s cock.

Harry kept his hands at his side, lips remaining lax and face impassive as Louis mouthed across him. Keeping as still as he could to not surrender himself the spoiled brat in his lap.

“Kiss me back,” Louis whined as his fingers fumbled with the buttons of Harry’s shirt. “Put your hands on me.”

Harry listened, gripping Louis by the nape of his hair and pulling him back completely. His whimper had Harry’s willpower trembling, but fuck if he'd let it show.

“You think I'm going to reward you for your behavior back there?” Harry tugged harder at his scalp knowing it sent a wave of shivers down Louis’ spine. “Do you think you'll get your way again? As if you make the rules and I'm only here at your mercy?”

Louis bit his lip playfully, looking at Harry through twinkling eyes and letting his arse drag torturously over Harry’s length.

“Yeah,” he smirked knowingly. “because you _are_.”

Harry flipped them in the back of the moving car, laying louis flat on his back and pinning his wrists up above his head. Exactly what Louis seemed to want if his lustful expression was anything to go by.

“I have you too spoiled, don’t I? Think it's time for that to change.”

“M’not spoiled,” Louis lied through slightly curled lips.

“No?” Harry questioned. “Did we not just leave in the middle of a broadway show because _you_ couldn't keep it in your pants?”

“I just want your cock, Daddy. S’been so long since I've had you to take care of me,” Louis whimpered at just the right tone, causing Harry to growl at his words and grind his hips down maddeningly.

Louis made it so easy to relent. Knew just what to say, and how to say it, to make Harry bow to his every need. But not tonight. Harry had other plans for how Louis would be dealt with.

“You’d be so lucky to even _see_ my cock tonight.” Louis went to protest but was silenced by the press of Harry’s finger. “You'll get what I give you _after_ you've been punished. Understood?”

Louis’s eyes glassed over at his tone, pupils dilating under the passing street lights and quick breathing stuttering in his chest. He didn't answer. Didn't even acknowledge a word Harry said. Instead, he looked up at Harry through his wispy lashes and sucked his finger into his mouth.

“God, you’re gagging for it.” Harry marveled as he slipped his finger from Louis’s mouth and moved to sit up in his seat. “Greedy boys don't get to come.”

Louis fussed beside him, but Harry kept his attention focused out the window. Their car was pulling up to the front of The Carlyle and Harry could not have been more grateful for the timing. Pants tightening and resolve crumbling, he strut from the door before Louis caught on to his facade.

“Harry, wait!” Louis called from inside of the car as he stumbled from the open door.

Harry kept the pace of his strides, not letting Louis’ hold on his bicep visibly affect him, and resisting every urge to pull him up under his arm.

Harry walked them through the lobby and into the pristinely shined elevator, politely greeting the operator and giving him their floor number. The man eyed Louis’ hold on him but didn't utter a word beyond that. Harry’s eyes rolled as he brought his hand to to caress against Louis’. He was proud of loving his boy and if this arsehole didn't catch him in this specific mood, he would've leaned down and snogged the life out of him.

Before Harry could do anything rash, the door pinged opened to their level. The two of them stepped out without looking back and consciously sped up to their room.

“When we get in, I want you to strip naked,” Harry whispered sternly into Louis’ ear. “Bring me the lube from my bag and then lay your body across my lap. Don't even _think_ about touching yourself, or you'll only prolong what I'm willing to give.”

“Does that include your cock?” Louis questioned like the little minx he is.

“What did I say about being greedy?” Amusement vanished from Harry’s features and Louis visibly shuddered at his disapproving stare.

“O-okay, sorry, Daddy.”

 _Fuck._ That was more like it.

Harry stopped in front of their room, keying the door open, and allowing Louis to quickly slip past him. Louis rid himself from his coat and kicked off his trainers as he took off in the direction of their bedroom. Harry smirked at his enthusiasm, knowing that if Louis was in the right mood, he was always ready to please.

Harry took a seat in the chair of the sitting room, nerves traveling aimlessly through his body and titillation nipping at his skin. He couldn't wait to have his way with Louis. Take his time with him and draw out his pleasure longer than necessary.

It had been so long since they last touched one another in such an intimate way, and Harry was sure he would be able to make Louis come more than once tonight. Make him moan and beg until he was dripping wet and satisfied in Harry’s lap, and then pick him up and have another go at it again.

Harry couldn't help but palm himself over his suit trousers, letting the ridges of his rings drag over the most sensitive parts of his cock and exhale at the soothing feel of his own hand. Harry imagined all the different warm and soothing ways Louis could better take care of his situation.

As if Louis could read Harry’s thoughts, he appeared from around the corner, hands crossed behind his back and perfect little body fully out on display. His smile was shy and his cheeks were rosy, and Harry could not believe how long he has lasted without Louis unabashedly tiptoeing towards him and obediently sitting on his lap.

“Lube?” Harry questioned, voice masked of emotion.

Goosebumps prickled down Louis’s body as he moved his arm from behind his back and handed over the new bottle. Harry looked at him through his glassy eyes and tucked the bottle between the cushion with a promise for later. With a racing heart, Harry went to rearrange Louis on his lap and—

“Wait,” Louis whispered through nervous lips. “I have something else for us. Um...it was meant for your birthday celebration, but...”

Louis trailed off, biting his lip, and not letting the rest of the sentence pass his lips. He looked a bit bashful. Or maybe a bit sinister. As if whatever he was hiding was more alluring than his naked body sat in Harry’s lap. It made Harry curious.

“Yeah?” Louis nodded, and Harry shrugged his shoulders with a raised brow. “What is it, then?”

Louis smirked prettily as he brought his other hand from behind his back, and placed a small object in Harry’s palm. A thin golden vial shimmered between his fingers under the low fluorescent light. A tiny bottle Harry had made for them, _ages_ ago, to store the nose candy that they _rarely_ dabbled in.

Louis tucked a sweaty curl behind Harry’s ear, sucking on his earlobe and whispering.

“Do a line off my arse.” He moved to suck a mark into Harry’s neck and adjusted himself until he was straddling Harry properly. “Wanna be so good for you, Daddy. Want you to feel like a king.”

 _“Fuck_.”

With a pleading mouth as filthy as that, how was it possible for anyone to say no?

Harry tucked the vial behind his ear and tugged at the back of Louis’ hair. Their lips met heatedly, tongues slipping from each other's mouths and moans getting caught in each other's throats.

Harry brought Louis in by the waist, grabbing at his hips and sliding his hands down to his luscious arse. Harry smacked his hand down hard, basking in the heat under his palm, and soothing it with a careful caress.

“You always know how to get your way, don't you?” Harry groaned, as he tightened his grip on Louis’s arse. “I'll do a line off of you, sure. _After_ you’ve received your punishment.”

Louis whimpered as Harry rearranged him to bend over his lap. His bum, soft and round in front of him, and ready to be discovered all over again.

Harry nearly forgot how good it felt to have Louis’ arse in the palm of his hands and how good it felt to _own_ his vulnerability and trust. Being the only person to make him feel this and make him feel _well_ taken care of, made his head spin with pleasure. He loved experiencing this like it was the first time over, and over, again.

“You thought you could get away with it, didn't you?” Harry teased. “You thought I'd just forget about how much of a brat you were just moments ago?”

“I thought you might fall for it.” Louis smirked as he peeked over his shoulder. “Sorry, Daddy.”

“Oh, you'll be sorry in a minute,” Harry promised through a confident smile. “Remember our word, baby?”

“I do.” Louis nodded his head rapidly, pushing his bum further into Harry’s wandering hands.

“Can you repeat it to me, please.”

“ _Cut,”_ Louis whined. “like we’re cutting a scene from a film.”

“Good boy,” Harry whispered as he gave Louis’ arse one last caress. “You ready for my hand?”

“Yes, Daddy. M’ready.”

As permission left his lips, Harry struck his hand down. Again, and again, and again. Louis’s cheeks jiggled as Harry smacked firmly against them, and the prints of his hand seared perfectly into his flawless skin.

Harry paused his strikes to softly grip against his flesh. Palms full of warmth and room filled with the breathless whimpers dripping from Louis’ mouth.

“You know why you're getting spanked, petal?” Harry continued his palming as Louis mumbled out a broken _yes._ “Tell Daddy why, then.”

“I–I wouldn't sit still, and I embarrassed you—” Harry brought down another strike as Louis trembled through his stuttered answer. “A-and I touched myself without permission.”

“Mhmm,” Harry gruffly hummed as he gripped Louis’ arse and spread his cheeks slowly. Hole pink and puckering, Harry’s cock hardened at the sight him. “Why else, baby? Keep going.”

Louis’ body tensed as Harry teased a dry finger from his hole to where his bollocks peeked through, toying with the thin skin and pulling back to deliver another harsh smack. He was fully in control and Louis was achingly hard beneath him.

“Because— _fuck_ —because I was acting like a brat,” Louis replied breathlessly. “Cos I'm spoiled, and I know how to use it against you.”

Harry was beyond pleased at his answer. It was usually like pulling teeth to get Louis to admit his wrongs, but Harry assumed he was slipping under in a hurry.

“You _think_ you do, darling. But you don't, and in the end, spoiled brats get punished, don't they? Brats like you get spanked until they're red in the cheeks, huh?”

“Y-yes,” Louis whimpered.

Harry struck a stiff hand against the pinkness of his cheeks, causing Louis to helplessly grind against his thigh and whimper even more.

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, _Daddy!_ M’sorry.”

Harry took his time rubbing down the heated skin and quickly slapping against it again. Pausing every now and then to check on Louis’s breathing and the state of his bum. It was beaming pink by now and quivering in his hold. A sure sign that Louis would feel it in the morning and bruise up prettily overnight.

“You want to be my good boy, again? Want to show me how well you can behave without whining or begging?”

“ _Please_ , Daddy. Want to be _so good_ for you.” A stray tear formed in Louis’ eye, and Harry luckily saw it as it happened.

“You're doing so well, angel.” He caressed Louis’s bum and ran a gentle hand through his scalp. “Think you can handle five more? S’only five, dove.”

“Of course I can,” Louis cried out. “Just feels so good, Daddy. I've _missed_ this.”

“There's my sweet boy,” Harry complimented as he slapped hard against Louis’ right cheek. Just how he knew he liked it. “Four more. Count them down for me.”

Harry gave it to him hot and hard, spanking against the pinkest, most sensitive areas and rubbing them to keep them warm. Louis looked as if he could come from this alone, eyes clenched shut and mouth counting on a continuous cry.

Goodness, was he beautiful. Every ounce of trust exuding from his body language. Every ounce of pleasure dripping from his hardened cock beneath him. Harry was nearly sweating through the thick material of his suit.

“You're perfect, baby doll. You did so well for me. Sit still for a bit.”

Harry took his time soothing the skin, cheeks fitting perfectly in the palms of his hands and thumbs caressing the raised skin in shapes of hands.

Harry’s head tilted back in contentment, comfortable to just sit there and knead Louis’ arse carefully. Louis seemed pretty at ease himself, eyes fluttered shut and back arching into Harry’s gentle touch. It was a _stunning_ sight to see _._ Harry has had dreams of this moment; has gotten himself off to the visuals of Louis spread out on his lap just like this.

“Lift your bum a bit, sweetheart.”

Louis followed his instruction and lifted his hips high enough to nearly reach Harry’s face. With the cooling pink skin in front of him, Harry untucked the golden vial from behind his ear, unscrewing the spoon that was attached, and peppering the snow in a straight enough line. Harry took a second to indulge the scene before him, a single white line gleaming against the soft pink of his arse. The most perfect view he's ever seen.

“You sure about this darling? I only care about your comfort–we can get high whenever, it doesn’t have to be now.”

“M’sure,” Louis mumbled. “I've wanted it like this for so long, and I trust you. I trust _us_.”

“Look me in the eye and give me permission.”

Louis lifted his shoulders, careful not to let the snow spill, or slip from his body.

“You have my permission,” he craned his neck to address him directly. “You have my green light, my go ahead, my everything. I trust you, Harry. I want this.”

“My good boy.” Harry pinched at the apple of his blushing cheek, gently caressing his stubbly face and watching the slow dilation of his eyes. “I’m gonna use our word, alright? We shouldn’t play while under the influence. Let’s just take it easy for tonight, yeah? I’ve been dying to slowly take you apart.”

“Can I still call you, Daddy?” Louis flashed an unabashed grin.

“If that’s what you want, darling.” Harry smiled and pinched gently at his side. “You can call me whatever you like so long as you’re aware this isn’t play.”

“I’m aware _._ ” Louis beamed. “I know you’ll always take care of me.”

Harry marveled at him with a dash of awe. Hands roaming his trusting body and eyes never leaving the gaze of his boy. He was so in love. So bloody in love.

“Alright,” Harry whispered through the energized air. “ _Cut._ ”

Louis hid his blush in the corner of his folded arms, wiggling his bum ever so slightly to silently tell Harry to get on with it.

With a soft smirk, Harry dipped his head to Louis’s skin, pinching off his left nostril and inhaling through the right. His eyes fluttered shut as he sniffed the line of powder and fell under a wave of arousal.

 _Fucking_ _hell,_ his cock was rock hard. Aching underneath the weight of Louis and soaking his layers of clothing with precome. Harry kissed away the remaining dust. Stroking his tongue against his satin skin and nipping along the crease of Louis’ opening.

“Thank you, baby. God—feels amazing.” Harry ignored the tingling drip at the back of his throat, focusing solely on the taste of the boy before him and how he _needed_ to move this to the bedroom. “Gonna make you feel just as good now, yeah? Take the rest of this and wait for me on the bed.”

Louis sat up slowly, taking the vial offered to him and standing to make his way around the corner. Harry caught him tightly by the wrist, tugging him in, and pressing their lips together softly. Louis giggled against him, blushing a pretty pink and pressing one last kiss to Harry’s tingling lips.

Harry watched in adoration as Louis scampered off towards the bedroom. He was so gone for him he could weep.

Nothing gave him a rush quite like his lover. Being on stage was one thing, but it paled in comparison to the light of Louis. Nights like these were bittersweet, yet necessary. It gave them both the opportunity to miss each other and fully appreciate every second they have together. To go so long without intimate touch and value the unparalleled feeling of pleasure.

Harry stood to peel himself out of his clothing, kicking his dress shoes off and unbuttoning his top and trousers. Fuck, it felt good to shed himself of barriers.

Adorned in nothing but a silver cross, Harry neatly folded his clothes over the arm of the sofa, opting to deal with the less important matter later. He gave his cock a few quick strokes, throwing his head back in ecstasy, and moaning through the heightened sensitivity. The euphoric feel of coke was slowly starting to kick in.

Harry snatched the bottle of lube from the cushion of the chair. Moving to round the corner of the bedroom, he paused to take in the vision that was Louis, legs slightly spread and doped up smile beaming across his face.

Stunning. Harry couldn't wait to get in there and worship the angel laid upon those undeserving sheets.

“You look like heaven.” Harry stroked himself slowly as he kneeled at the foot of the bed. “Sun, moon, and stars, reflecting in your eyes. My own sweet paradise waiting between your thighs.”

Louis threw his head back in brilliant laughter, eyes crinkling and tummy shaking. Harry buried his face between his legs, Louis’ giggles causing him to clench around his head and shiver at the press of his lips.

“Love it when you get poetic,” Louis giggled breathlessly. “S’cute.”

“You inspire every last word. Maybe I'll put that one in a song.” Harry closed his eyes and lazily mouthed at Louis’ thighs. “Hold yourself open for me.”

The mood in the room drastically changed as Louis gripped himself behind the knees and lifted up to his chest. Harry wasted no time, dipping his tongue into his tight opening and gripping the back of his thighs like a vice.

“ _Daddy_ ,” Louis whined, rolling his hips to accommodate Harry's tongue.

“God, I've missed how that sounds,” Harry breathlessly spoke against Louis’ arse. “Missed how you taste. Missed how responsive you are.”

“I've missed it, too,” Louis panted. “Could come just like this.”

Harry moaned through his next few licks, blindly reaching for the bottle of lube and covering his fingers generously. Harry knocked Louis’ hands from behind his knees and lifted his legs over his shoulders. Their eyes met from their positions, Louis’ rimmed with lust and Harry’s alight with desire.

“You wanna come like this?”

Louis wordlessly nodded his head, chest heaving and heels digging into Harry’s back.

“Think you can come off my fingers alone?” Harry prodded.

“ _Yes—“_

“And then my cock?” he continued. “Can you do that for me, lover? Can you be loud for me as well?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Louis whimpered as Harry circled his rim with a slippery finger. “Whatever you ask of me, Daddy.”

Pleased beyond words, Harry smirked up at his boy and slipped his finger past his opening. Harry was vividly aware of the silky heat consuming his digit, pumping it in and out rhythmically and becoming enamoured with the slick feeling. He was so focused on this high. End goal only ever being Louis’ pleasure and doing everything he could to accomplish that.

Harry dipped down again, tasting clean skin around his tongue, and wiggling it in next to his finger.

The sounds coming from Louis were unabashed and loud. Exactly how Harry preferred them. He  reached his hand between his own legs, squeezing his cock tight, and rubbing off a bit of the edge. Louis felt soft and relaxed around him and Harry took his time slipping a second finger alongside his first.

“My fingers missed you.” Harry smirked through a laugh as he curled his hand forward. “Bet you missed them, too, huh? You like how they feel, baby?”

Louis was nearly gone for, chest steadily rising and hips grinding rhythmically against Harry’s touch. His feathery fringe fell into his shut eyes and his fists dug harshly into the pristine sheets below him. By the looks of it, he was well on his way to unraveling, but Harry wasn't quite done enjoying this part yet.

Harry withdrew his fingers carefully, removing Louis’ legs from over his shoulders and turning him fully on his front. Harry marveled at the sight of Louis’s spine and the dips of his back dimples.

He was entirely too flawless. The curves of his body could tempt the sinner out of the holiest of men.

Harry spread him by the arse and prodded the tip of his tongue into his velvety heat, easily lost in the taste of Louis and moaning at the feel of him clenching around him. Louis’ murmured cries were like symphonies to Harry’s ears. Being as messy and thorough as he could just to pull those beautiful sounds from within him.

“I'm never letting you shave again,” Louis choked out. “Burns so fucking good.”

Harry’s ego swelled as he laughed against Louis’s hole.

“You like it a bit prickly, then?”

“Fuck, yes.” Louis pushed his arse desperately against Harry’s face. “Give me more.”

Harry quickly pinned Louis’s hips to the bed.

“Anything for you.”

Louis whined into the sheets and spread his legs at the feel of Harry’s fingers entering him. It was a tight squeeze, and Harry took his time prodding and scissoring, and teasing a third digit around his rim.

Louis groaned as Harry gently brushed against his prostate, fingers buried deep inside him and rubbing rather indulgently. Even going as far as attempting to trace an _H_ against the sensitive area. However he could move his fingers to get Louis off.

“You almost there, my love?” Harry picked up the pace of his hand and tugged Louis back by the locks of his hair. “Think you can come untouched for me?”

“Yes—” Louis strained as his back arched deeper and deeper. Harry was certain he was seeing stars by now. “Yes—fuck—so close.”

“Alright.” Harry fucked his hand forward, sinking three fingers deep and applying just the right amount of pressure to stimulate his prostate. Louis gasped out in pleasure, balls drawn up tight, and grip in his hair causing him to hiss. “Come, darling. Come all over yourself.”

An effortless moan ricocheted off the moonlit walls of the room, city lights casting a spotlight over Louis unraveling at the seams and coming undone onto the linen beneath him. It was so bloody erotic and almost hard to believe. Louis came completely untouched and perfectly on command. Harry could not have been more proud of his boy. Milking it out of him until he was boneless and shivering.

Harry removed his hands and turned him over gently. Kissing his sweaty forehead and reminding him to breathe. Endorphins from the coke likely making each feeling more vivid and more overwhelming than usual.

“Breathe, baby,” he whispered in the shell of his ear, “you did so well. I'm so proud of you.”

Louis latched onto him weakly, kissing Harry where he could reach and cheekily smiling under the shower of praise. His face was etched in ecstasy. Eyes slightly unfocused and breathing a steady deep pattern, he was bliss personified, and Harry couldn't wait to take him to a higher level.

“You did so well. Gonna give you my cock now, yeah?” Harry gripped the whimpering mess of a boy beneath him and switched their positions effortlessly. Harry propped up against the fluffed pillows, and Louis sat prettily on his thighs. “Your throne awaits you, _princess_.”

With his succulent body bathed in soft light, Louis leaned back and shakily grabbed for the bottle of lube. Harry’s cock leaked as Louis covered his palm in the substance and filthily bit down on his lip.

Harry went breathless the moment Louis’s dainty hand wrapped around his length and slicked him thoroughly from bottom to top. Eyes squeezed shut, Harry growled out a moan. Biting his lip and flexing his body as Louis thumbed teasingly at his slit. Fuck, his nimble hand felt so good.

Louis unsteadily lifted himself up on his knees, nearly tipping over, but was steadied by Harry’s strong hands. He looked so tiny in his hold. Slender hips fitting in his palms. Delicate frame trembling from above him. Harry slid his hands to Louis’s arse, spreading him apart and helping to accommodate his size. Harry's mouth fell open as his tip caught against his rim. Slick heat overwhelming his senses, and tightness briefly pulling him under, making his vision go fuzzy.

“You're so big, Daddy,” Louis breathed as he slowly sat on Harry’s cock.

“Yeah? You like that?” Harry rolled his hips experimentally, pulling a sweet whimper from within Louis. “My little size queen. You love it when I fill you up like this, don’t you?”

Louis responded with a breathy _fuck_ as he rolled his hips in sinful little thrusts. Harry let his eyes flutter shut as he fought every adrenalizing urge to hammer into him. He was likely still sensitive from coming just moments ago and Louis deserved to take his time anyway. Deserved to delve in all the heightened sensations Harry’s cock and drugs could give to him. It was his idea after all.

Louis began to shakily bounce, thighs visibly trembling and soft tummy protruding with every breath of effort. His palms landed on Harry's chest as a crutch, helping him to better ride his dick and adjusting himself to a more pleasurable angle.

Harry took Louis’s cock in his hand, gently thumbing at the sensitive tip and feeling him get hard under his hold again. His size was always so _gorgeous_ to Harry. His hand swallowing most of the girth and his head only slightly peeking through. It was maddening. Such a perfect little fit for himself and Harry’s hand. Like he was tailor made just for this _._ Harry wanted to keep it tucked, safe and warm, between his fist at all times, and—

“ _Please_ ,” Louis begged. Not for anything specific, but Harry knew what he needed.

With planted feet, and a strong hold on his hips, Harry took over the pace, drilling into Louis effortlessly and letting his increased energy drive his hips forward.

Louis encouraged him with enthusiastic moans and a clenching arsehole. Harry's ego swelled at the sound of pleasing him, just as his cock swelled from being on edge for so long. He pulled Louis down by the back of his neck, blanketing his moans with his own mouth, and licking the sounds right off the back of his tongue. It was messy and wet, and downright intoxicating. And Harry would be damned if Louis wasn't feeling the same way.

“Baby, I'm so close.” He thrust his hips wildly, hitting Louis’s prostate on every drive and losing rhythm as he picked up his speed. “Think you can come for me again? Can you do it for me like the first time?”

Louis nodded wordlessly, lackadaisical smile resting on his lips and body bouncing against Harry’s rapid thrusts. So prettily blissed out.

“ _Yes_ , Daddy,” Louis whined, flicking his hair back and moving to sit up straight. “Just need you to touch me, and I can come along with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis panted. “ _Please,_ touch me—”

Harry engulfed him in his hand once more. Too focused on wanting to come to further prolong the two of them. His hand was dry and rough, and his thumbs were calloused from life on tour and playing guitar every single night, but Louis _loved_ it. Chased after the feeling as Harry pounded into him and reduced him to a blubbering mess. His eyes clenched and his arse clenched tighter, Harry picked up on Louis’s body language and went harder with his thrusts and strokes, pulling him into a state of pure euphoria.

“Come, with me,” Harry forced out as he felt himself tensing. “ _Come.”_

It took the wet heat of Harry coming inside of him to finally get Louis off, but he listened, once again. Beautifully covering Harry’s fist in weak spurts of his own.

Harry continued to thrust his hips forward. Roughly fucking an intense orgasm out of himself and moving a hand to feel himself leak from Louis’s arse. It was unbelievably hot, and as he thrust in hard one last time, he shoved the same come covered fingers into Louis’s mouth—cursing at the filthy sight above him.

Louis rolled his hips weakly as he sucked Harry’s fingers clean, eyes hazy and unfocused as he switched out Harry’s hand and carefully cleaned up the other. Harry was an undeserving sod for the celestial being above him. Couldn't believe someone so perfect was in love with him, and remained in love with him, even after all these years.

He carefully lifted Louis from his spent cock, pulling a weak whimper from both of them, and laid him down gently. Louis’s body was trembling and his eyes were closing against their own weight. He was so beautifully fucked out and Harry figured a bit of aftercare could never do harm.

“Lou, baby.” Harry pressed featherlight kisses across his cheeks and to his lips. Cleaning his arse with the soft fabric of the sheets. “Come back to me, my little love. M’right here, come on. Look up at Daddy.”

Harry pulled his shaking body into his own. Whispering out encouragements, rubbing his hands tenderly over his skin, and kissing him back to life. Louis’s eyes remained glassed over and lips open slightly ajar, but he was lightly kissing back and on the verge of responding.

“Hello, petal.” Harry brought a hand to cradle his face, softly tucking his wispy hair behind his ear. “Can you tell me how you're feeling? Tell me what's on your mind.”

It took him a second. Licking his lips and fluttering his lashes at Harry’s careful touches. In this state, he was nothing short of dreamlike. An ethereal creature Harry was too afraid to look away from. Too afraid to let go of and too afraid to watch slip away from him again.

“I feel amazing,” Louis whispered through a beaming smile. “Feel like I can go a few more rounds if you're up for it. I have so much energy.”

Harry laughed between kisses, holding Louis’ face gently and using his legs to tangle him in closer.

“You thought I was done with you? We’ve only just started, babe.” Harry pressed their lips together. Tongues only sliding out for a moment before letting the soft feeling of lips on lips satisfy each other. “But for now, I think we should lay here -let you breathe a bit. We’ll properly clean us up in a minute, yeah? Draw us a bath to relax in after you've come down.”

“Sounds good.” Louis buried himself in Harry’s hold, wrapping his arms loosely around him and letting himself indulge in Harry’s warmth.”I didn't expect this to feel _so_ good. My body has gone untouched for too long.”

“D’you need anything?” Harry offered. “Some food? Water?”

Louis shook his head sleepily, soft fringe tickling right underneath Harry’s chin.

“No,” he whispered. “Only ever need you.”

 

***

 

**25 February, 1983**

 

Music in the air and lust trapped in his lungs, Harry sat in the mesmerizing daze that could only ever be Louis. His lips like dripping cherries, cold from the iced champagne. His tongue like endless desire, chasing the sweet flavors, and wrapping around each word. Teeth shining like diamonds and pearls, and winter pale body gleaming under the chandelier’s iridescent light.

All of Manhattan would never amount to this level of luxury. The priceless radiance Louis exuded by merely existing.

“Were you even listening to me?” Louis spoke around a gold encrusted glass. Bottom planted firmly on the sleek surface of the room’s grand piano, and toes softly tinkling against the ivory keys beneath him.

“Of course I was.” Harry let his fingers mindlessly tap against the keys, filling the room with gentle melodies and thoughtless notes. “You were telling me about the friend you made.”

“ _Fionn_ ,” Louis frustratedly reminded him.

“Right, _Fionn._ ” Harry smiled up at him from his sitting position, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his knee. “What's he like, then? How'd y’meet?”

Harry moved his hands along the keys, watching as Louis finished off his drink, and crossed one bare leg over the other. He moved so elegantly. Drawing anyone's attention to the minimal yet graceful shapes of his body. Harry's clumsy fingers have slipped off-key from the beautiful distraction more than once.

“Well, we auditioned for the same part, initially. I met him in the waiting room before I got called in.” Louis fondly thought back to the date. Eyes concentrated in memory and small smile creeping up on his face. “The part he ended up getting was a better fit, and we still share a lot of scenes together, but when we _first_ met, I was tucking my ID away, and he saw the picture of you I keep in my wallet, and he was like ‘ _Oh, is that Harry Styles? The man’s a legend up on stage. You have to see him perform if you haven't._ ’”

“Huh, I like him already,” Harry declared through a dimpled smile, hands still aimlessly moving across the instrument.

“Of course you do. But _anyway,_ I told him I've seen you perform a few times, and then we got on the topic of your music, and then your fashion, and it all sort of spiraled until I got called in and had to get into character.” Louis smiled down at a bashful Harry. Grabbing the champagne and pouring himself another drink. “We actually have quite a bit in common. We both _clearly_ adore you, and we both grew up in Richmond. He says he also had to snag a few shitty jobs around England to be able to come out here and work. Think you might've played at one of the pubs he served at, actually.”

“Really?” Harry looked up with a quirked brow and softened at the sight of Louis nodding through a sip of champagne. “S’funny how small the world is, innit?”

“England is quite small itself, Harry,” Louis teased him as he set down his glass beside him—going silent for a moment. His lips bitten between his teeth and hands gripping onto the edge of the piano. Harry continued his playing. More than happy to sit and watch him, and let the music fill the room. “He, um...he actually invited me out for drinks the other night. Like a date, almost _._ ”

Harry’s hands stilled against the keys, looking up at Louis with a soft smile on his face and moving to caress his ankle with his hands.

“Yeah?”

“Y-yeah, yeah.” Louis nodded with a confused tilt to his head. “Wait—you aren't upset?”

“No.” Harry looked up equally as confused. “Why would I be? _Should_ I be?”

“No, no, s’just—” Louis shrugged, clearly looking for the right words to say. “I dunno. Another man taking me out doesn't bother you?”

“No, baby. I trust you. I trust that you meant friends when you said so.” Harry placed a kiss to the inked skin of his ankle. Small black triangle pressed against his lips. “Did you tell him about us?”

“Well, I sort of _had_ to tell him I had a boyfriend when he showed up to our place with flowers. I thought we were just going to a pub for a lads night or summat, but I clearly misread the invitation.”

“Aww, my boy’s a heartbreaker.” Harry laughed through crinkled eyes and a dimpled smile. “Poor lad.”

“Yeah, he was fine with it, though. He knows I don't really have friends in LA and he knows how rough that can be.” Louis ran a hand through his hair and fiddled with the skin of his thumbs. Seemingly distracted. Like he was still looking for the right words to say. “Don't take this the wrong way, but it's just really nice to finally have a friend out there while you're away. Someone who faces the same fears and struggles as me, and someone from back home, as well. I just feel really lucky to have met him, you know? It’s a little less lonely while you're gone and—he talks about you enough, anyway, so, I still get to gush over you without him _knowing_.”

“That's great, sweetheart.” Harry kissed up the soft, supple skin of his leg until he reached the bone of his knee. “I never wanted you to be alone out there, so, I'm glad to hear you've made a friend in someone you can trust and relate to. That’s hard to find in LA. Maybe I can meet him someday, if Jeffrey allows it.”

“Like that'll happen,” Louis said through a humourless, slightly defeated, laugh. “You have no idea how hard it is not to talk about _you_ . I want to tell Fionn who you are, and tell him why you're across the country and not at home. I always want to tell _everyone_ I meet about you and all the amazing things you're doing.”

Harry blushed pink under the praise of Louis. He performed in front of _thousands_ of screaming people, every night. The masses shouting his own lyrics back at him, and tossing roses up on stage. But only Louis’s approval could ever get his heart racing like this. Only _he_ could turn a rockstar into a bashful, inhibited mess.

“Trust me, babe, I know how hard it is. I always want to gush about my little Hollywood star, too. I always wanna whine to them about how much I miss you.” Harry ran his hands up Louis’ thighs, reaching for his palms, and intertwining their fingers carefully in his lap. “I'm sorry I took the small amount of freedom we had away from us. I hate that I used to be able to talk about you with anyone, and now we both have to watch what we say, and who we say it to.”

Harry squeezed their hands tightly, throat closing in on itself like every other time this topic has been breached.

“It's not _fair,_ Louis _._ We should be able to love each other freely and proudly.”

“We do, though, Harry.” Louis stroked his gentle thumbs against the hard bone of Harry’s knuckles. “When I'm with you, I _am_ free _._ There's no closet doors, there's no fear, no hiding away who I am, or who you are. It's just us, and our love, and that's all that matters to me.”

Louis slid from the top of the piano into Harry's lap, notes clinking beneath him as he situated himself comfortably.

“Even if I can't speak your name, or shout to the world how incredible you are, I'm still so proud of you. M’so proud to _be_ in love with you. No laws, or fear, or record labels could ever take that away from us, yeah? Loving you has always been my greatest accomplishment, and I never want you to apologise for something so out of your control, ever again.”

Harry could have cried right there. Could have weeped for hours over the sweetest boy within his hold.

Harry often felt guilty for agreeing to a life on the road rather than a life with his boy. Louis was always adamant about both of them going after what they wanted and not letting their relationship put their goals on hold. Something Harry would thank him for, for the rest of their lives.

It felt right performing. It felt right composing and recording songs that he knew he would sing for years to come. But he could not bring himself to feel the same about leaving Louis for the road, or pretending they were nothing more than flatmates. Had Harry never agreed to this life, they could be together more often than not.

“Stop thinking yourself into guilt, love,” Louis whispered as he took Harry’s face between his delicate hands. “I don't regret any part of us and I'd support you through another world tour if it meant you were happy and doing what you love.”

Harry stared back gratefully. Not entirely sure what he did to deserve someone like Louis. Someone so easy to love. Someone so easy to miss.

“Loving you has been my greatest accomplishment, as well, Louis.” Harry brought him in by the waist, pressing their bodies flush together and letting their lips meet between them. “I know it's hard right now, and I know you put on a brave face for my sake, but it won't go on like this forever, yeah? After this tour, I'll be there for you everyday, and I'll fight for more time off on the next one. Whatever it takes, baby. I love the road and all the shows, but you'll always come first.”

Louis smiled through the crinkles by his eyes and a quivering chin.

“I love our love.” Louis kissed Harry hard despite his trembling lips.

Harry kissed back thoroughly, hands gripping his bare hips and mouth pressing with purpose. Harry would never know another love like this. So intense and thriving, even after so many years. A bond that would surely endure the test of time.

“Someday we won't have to hide,” Harry promised. “And I can't wait for that day to arrive.”

 

***

 

**27 February, 1983**

 

Street corners and teenage ridden crossings bustled ceaselessly with the energized youth and city lights. Boys dressed in their scuffed up high tops and denim, and girls lighting up their cigarettes away from their feathered curls. Four A.M. meant little to them. Free of alarms and destinations, and free of limited time in the city that never sleeps. As their Saturday night drew to an end, Harry’s Sunday morning had only just begun.

Louis sat quietly in his lap, head resting in the crook of Harry’s neck and hands loosely toying with the silver of his chain. Neither of them spoke in the back of their town car. Partition raised for privacy and shadow of the morning masking their desolate states.

The selfish side of Harry wished he could move his tongue to speak. Ask Louis to stay for just a little bit longer. Ask him to spend the remainder of Sunday with him, and be there at his show. Beg him to cling to a few more hours together and hope that tomorrow would never come.

But he couldn't. He _wouldn't._ He kept his miserably selfish wishes to himself and only held Louis tighter. It wouldn't be fair to ask him to put his life in California on hold. It wouldn't be fair to beg him for more time when they just had an entire week to themselves, indulging in one another and closing themselves off to the world that wasn't their own.

The knot in Harry’s throat burned as harsh as his withheld tears. Lips swollen from biting back emotion and repressing his requests for Louis’ time.

Goodbyes were always the hardest part. Worse than the distance between them and worse than their days spent alone. Harry couldn't bear to watch Louis’ chin quiver as he grimaced through a platonic handshake or a quick wave goodbye. He hated that neither of them could cry, let alone embrace each other one last time in front of other people. It was so unfairly difficult for both of them.

“I don't want to go back,” Louis whispered through a running nose and a choked up throat. The only sign he's given off that leaving is actually affecting him.

“I don't want you to go, either.” Harry untucked Louis from the crook of his neck, tilting his chin upward, and flinching at his tear streaked face. “Hey, hey–we’ll see each other soon, yeah? Our anniversary is just around the corner and we’ll have a holiday in London. Maybe then you’ll even be able to stay for one of my shows.”

Harry tried for a joke but only seemed to upset Louis further _._

“I'm sorry. I—I wish I could see you perform tonight—maybe I can book another flight or, or—”

“No, baby. No.” Harry gently denied as he wiped at the tears of Louis’s cheeks. “I was only joking. You need to go back home and sleep off your jet lag, that way you're refreshed and camera ready come Monday. I'll still be singing to you from the east coast. Or wherever I am in the world.”

Louis buried his face into his hands, body shaking and nose running.

“Don't be such a bloody sap, you're making it harder,” Louis said through a muffled sob. Harry could tell he was attempting to blanket his emotions and hold it in for Harry’s sake. Something he has always done. Something that, in a way, helped him cope.

“M’sorry, babe. Just trying to comfort you a bit.”

Louis sat up in Harry’s lap. Wiping traces of wetness away from his face and breathing back his emotions to compose himself. The sleeve of his jumper slid from his shoulder, drawing Harry’s eyes to the smooth skin, and distracting him from Louis straddling himself against him.

“Could you just kiss me for a bit, instead?” Louis asked as he thread his fingers through Harry’s silky hair. “ _Please?_ ”

Harry willingly obliged, gently pulling Louis in by his waist and letting their swollen lips slot together. They pressed hard for a moment and moved roughly against each other. Harry slid his hand upward, palm fitting over Louis’ neck, and fingers digging into the corners of his jaw.

The rhythm of his heartbeat thumped softly under Harry’s hold. The feeling of his tongue was desperate yet fleeting.

Harry took control. Slowing the movements of their lips to nearly motionless and moving his hands up and under Louis’ jumper. Not initiating. Not groping. Just feeling. _Basking._ Touching what he could before he was three thousand miles out of reach.

The wet heat of Louis’ tongue languidly slid against Harry’s. The two tangling slowly, and a bit naughtily, like a metaphor for their love. Both content to sit there and taste what was left of their morning together.

The jostle of a pothole gently shook them apart. Lips separated by a breath and fingers curling around each other’s skin. Louis’ eyes were a bit more grey than blue this morning. Sleepless and rimmed pink with tears.

“Will you kiss my neck until it’s bruised?” Louis asked too sweetly. Lashes batting and lips pouting.

“Babe–” Harry cut himself off with a sigh. “Believe me, I want to, I just don't want to get you hard before your flight.”

“M’not trying to get hard. M’trying to be marked up where people can see it.”

“Last night you had me mark you everywhere that _couldn't_ be seen,” Harry softly reminded. “You said you wanted it for your eyes only.”

“What I said was rubbish,” Louis whined lowly. “Can you just— _please?”_

“Lou, you have to film tomorrow, and how are you going to explain a love bite—I don't think it's a very good idea to—”

“ _Jesus_ , forget it.” Louis moved to turn his back away from Harry, bum still planted stubbornly in his lap.

Harry knew he was only acting out because he was scared. Wasn't quite ready to get on a plane alone, and say goodbye to their little week of paradise. Harry could easily sympathize.

His arms circled slowly around Louis’ waist. One slipping up under his jumper and up against his chest, effortlessly pinning him back against him. It was too dark to read his body language, but amber coloured light bathed against his bare shoulder each time a street light went by, and Harry couldn't help but give into him one last time.

Lips careful and arms strong, Harry gently pressed a kiss to the curve of his shoulder. Slowly sucking a pattern against the incline of his neck, licking, teasing, and biting, but never long enough to leave a bruise.

Harry felt Louis tremble in his arms. Soft sniffles dripping from his nose and small hands wiping at his hidden face. Harry gave him the privacy he needed. Only offering comfort in the form of kisses and holding him close.

Harry kissed up the column of his neck, landing up under his ear, and taking the thin skin roughly between his teeth. Louis hissed through his cry but Harry never relented. Giving Louis everything he asked for as he kissed and sucked him hard. His blood rushed to the surface of his skin and his trembling body relaxed in Harry’s hold. Harry soothed the blossoming bruise with a loving tongue. Feather light kisses and a cool blow of air.

A slow right turn became the gloomy entrance of LaGuardia. Terminals glowing harshly in the hazy winter morning, forcing a wince out of both of their tired eyes. Harry’s chest constricted as they drew closer to Louis’ exit. He held his boy close in their final moments of privacy. Tightening his grip around his waist and breathing in the sweet scent of his clothing.

Louis let out a heartbreaking sob, hiding his face in the sleeves of his jumper, and shaking as the car torturously rolled to a stop. Harry has never seen him in a state like this. The roles were usually reversed when the two of them were forced to separate.

“Hey,” Harry whispered as he turned Louis’s chin to face him. “I'm only ever a flight away, yeah?”

“Yeah I know, I know. I just—M’not sure why it's hitting me so h-hard this time.” he hiccuped through his emotions and turned to throw his arms around Harry. “M’just going to miss you so much.”

“I'm going to miss you too, sweetheart.” he soothed Louis’ heaving back and kissed softly against his temple. “I’ll write you as often as I can, yeah? Whatever I have to do to make it easier for you. Sound good?”

Louis nodded against him. Hiding away his face to clean himself up and pulling back to look Harry in the face.

“I love you,” he mumbled through shiny lips.

And before Harry could reply, the door was pulled open for them. Eyebrows raised and mouth open ajar, their chauffeur mumbled out a hurried apology, rushing to disappear from the scene, and taking his seat back in the front of the car. _Shit._

Louis untangled himself from Harry’s lap. Watching his step as he hopped from the car and smoothing out the wrinkles in his jumper. Harry followed clumsily behind. Hardly fitting through the opening and tripping over his clunky trainers. Louis shouldered his carry on and rolled his bag of luggage towards him. He looked up at Harry with that all too familiar, and painful, look. Chin dimpling and blue eyes swimming with tears.

Harry took a precocious look around. Terminal nearly empty save for a car stalled down at the end. One of the many reasons they chose the lesser known airport in New York.

“Come here.” Harry held out his arms and stepped toward his boy.

Louis cuddled in close. Arms wrapping around Harry’s velour jacket and face burying into the comfort of his neck.

The two of them swayed slowly. Not caring for watchful eyes and sniffing back their early morning sadness. Harry pulled back slowly, and without a second thought, kissed his lover on the lips. He felt the shocked intake of breath from Louis, but further melted into the sensation as he kissed back with vigor. Harry softly pulled away, and pressed his lips back in one last time, and then another.

Louis’s face was coloured a blooming shade, and for just a moment, it felt like living in a world that was fair and accepting. Even if it was just the two of them, alone.

“I'll see you soon, darling.” Harry cupped Louis’ smiling face in his hand and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. “I love you.”

“Love you.” Louis left him with kiss to his palm and a devastatingly bittersweet smile.

Harry watched as he rolled his cases behind him and stepped through the sliding doors of the terminal. He stood motionless as Louis gave him one last look over his shoulder, and quietly disappeared around the corner.

Louis was gone. On his way to his flight back home and his life away from Harry. A feeling he should be used to by now, but could never truly stomach, no matter how many times they were forced to part.

Exhaustion blindsided Harry as he stepped over to the car and carefully crawled back in. He shut the door behind him and finally let the last of his resolve crumble to his feet. Brave face for his lover gone, and replaced by quiet, burning tears. He pinched his eyes shut and completely curled in on himself. Breathing heavily and soaking the velvety sleeve of his jacket.

Goodbyes were _shit,_ and as the car pulled away, back into the direction of the city, Harry could only hope that he would be plenty stable, in time for his show.

 

\--

 

“Madison Square—” Harry shouted into his microphone. Shortness of breath cutting himself off and roar from the sold out crowd giving him a second to collect himself.

He ran down the catwalk, placing himself in the middle of the arena, in the eye of all the madness.

“Madison Square Garden, you've been the most incredible crowd by far _.”_

Harry watched the ravenous sea of people before him. Men and women screaming. Bottles of ale clinking. The smoky haze of burning spliffs and sweaty bodies rubbing up against each other. He _lived_ for it. The stage lights beamed behind him and cast a glow on every last fan’s adoring face.

Harry truly had the ideal life of a rockstar. Even if that meant missing your deepest love along the way.

“I want to try something with you lot tonight, can we try something new?” the crowd wooed in response and Harry took a second to adjust himself. Bloody denim riding him harder than Louis. “If you're here with a significant other, tonight, I want you to face them. Go on, face each other, yeah.”

Harry watched as multiple heads turned to face to face. Lads beaming down at their birds and birds looking up to their boys. Harry searched around for nervous glances. Any familiar flickering eyes from boy to boy or girl to girl, wanting to give them the safety and acceptance they so desperately deserved. Not explicitly through the mic, but through a slight head nod, or a knowing wink.

“I want to feel the love tonight, New York City, I want to _feel_ it. Just turn to your significant other and kiss them. Kiss them like nobody is watching, like this is the last time you'll get a sweet taste of their loving.”

Harry watched as the crowd erupted in laughter and joy. Kissing each other messily and cuddling in close.

“I want you to kiss each other as often as possible. Be patient with each other. Never take your time together for granted.”

Harry walked slowly up the catwalk. Blowing kisses where he could see and waving to as many people as possible.

“No matter who it is you love—or how you love that person—cherish them with all you have. Kiss each other always and often and be _proud_ of who you love. Just keep kissing.”

A portion of the roaring crowd was unknowing to the message he was trying to send, and either way for them, it was okay. The other portion, who he knew was alive and existed, _hopefully_ heard him loud and clear. _Hopefully,_ would leave this show with that little bit of support meant just for them.

“Alright, enough of the sappy shite, yeah? Thank you so much for participating, and sharing your love with me, I live vicariously through you. Let's get back to the music, shall we?”

Harry counted off his band to jump straight into their next song. Thrashing his head about and pumping his fist with vigor. His music rattled the walls of the building, traveling through his veins and encompassing his entire being. He wished Louis was here to witness him in his element, at one of the biggest shows of his career. But their love was riddled with sacrifice, and Harry was more than understanding.

And if he silently dedicated his entire set to the boy that inspired every song, no one would think anything of it.

 

***

 

 


	3. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aids crisis is mentioned towards the end of this chapter and there is slight homophobia. If you want to talk to me about this before you read please reach out to me on tumblr!

**March 6, 1983**

 

Rochester was far less glamorous than the opposite side of New York. Blue moonlight gleaming off the lazy ripples of Lake Ontario and bearable cool wind slipping up under the thick wool of his winter coat. His bus hadn't stopped rolling for the past six days. Hitting a different city every night between New York and New Jersey, and not stopping for even a moment. 

It was morbidly exhausting, and everyone on this tour was beginning to get antsy and restless. Not a single hotel in Rochester could accommodate Harry and the entire entire crew behind him, which left everyone to fend for themselves in deserted parking lots, and take to sleeping in uncomfortable tour bus bunks for the night.

Sleep abandoned Harry at the end of February. Nights were spent searching for Louis in his dreams and trembling awake when he realized he wasn't there. Tonight was no different, and instead of trying for sleep, Harry wandered aimlessly around Rochester’s empty streets - searching for any sign of an outgoing postbox.

Jeff would have a fit if he found out Harry snuck off his bus, and was out here alone, but Harry couldn't be arsed. Six days on the road meant six days without Louis, or his voice, or a chance to send the handwritten letters he promised he would.

He couldn't sleep anyway, might as well put these empty hours to use. Harry had at least an armful to send. Some stuffed with polaroids and American money, and others dripping with sap and poetry. Some were pages worth, and others were no more than a few lines.

Harry looked over his shoulder, checking to be sure that no one had trailed him from where the buses were parked, before he rounded the unlit street corner.

A blue drop off box was bolted down beneath the light of a lamppost. Payphone nearby and park bench overlooking the midnight coloured bay. He took the few strides against the filth ridden and deserted pavement, until he reached the blue metal of the postbox. Pulling the mouth of it open, he carefully slid every last letter he had in there. He hoped they would reach California soon. Hoped Louis would forgive him for going missing for nearly seven days.

Maybe he could render that with a phone call. He knew he ought to try anyway with a payphone just within his reach.

Harry dug past his lighter and a stash of pocket lint before reaching the bottom and pulling out a small handful of loose change.

Stepping up to the dodgy telephone, Harry slipped in his nickels and dimes,  _ praying  _ it was enough for a long distance call. Muscle memory of his thumbs punched in his home line without him really considering the time. It was difficult to tell how late is was here just judging by the moon in the sky. Louis was three hours behind him anyway, it should still be early enough in California.

The line buzzed dully in his ear as his heart raced with each choppy dial tone, and the hope of hearing his lover's voice after what felt like a lifetime. He waited patiently, huddled close into the phone booth, and let the germ infested receiver rest against his face.

He waited, perhaps a bit too long, but Louis’ voice never came. The line rang, and rang, and rang, until eventually the time his spare change allowed, expired. Harry tried not to be bothered by it as he hung up the phone, and moved to take a lonely seat against the oddly placed park bench.

He pulled a hand rolled cigarette from the pocket of his coat and followed suit with his cheap gas station lighter. He never did smoke these. Couldn't stand the taste of them. It really only served to keep his hands occupied and let the curls of smoke remind him of home. Even if Louis didn't smoke much these days, the overwhelming scent of nicotine reminded him of their time alone.

The wind stilled just long enough for him to bring it to his lips and light up, blowing out the toxins before they had a chance to reach his lungs. Patterns of grey whisped into the moonlight like a storm cloud over the city. His fingertips itched for Louis’ touch as he let the memorable scent lull him into a sense of nostalgia.

Harry let his head hang in the muffled sounds of water rushing up to the bay, and bustling highways somewhere off in the distance. It took him back to LA for a moment. Picturing the halo of sunshine that complemented Louis’ face in the 5 pm traffic. He wondered if Louis was thinking of him right now, or at all. Wondered if he was lost inside a midnight dream of just the two of them together, dancing beneath the stage lights without the threat of people watching.

Above all, he hoped Louis was doing alright. Getting the rest Harry wasn't and lying comfortably in the safety of their bed. Harry hoped he was okay. Harry hoped  _ they _ were okay.

 

***

 

**March 10, 1983**

 

New Haven hosted a beautiful outdoor show. One of the most memorable in Harry’s career. 

Something like a scene from Woodstock, only now on the edge of Connecticut, in the middle of the city. Crowd spreading across the green as far as the eye could see, and pot hazing out the twilight coloured sunset.

For the length of a few songs, Harry caught glimpses of rainbows waving alongside the other sporadic flags. The crowd swayed to the melody of his voice and sweaty bodies surfed up to the security of the barricade. The show ended with a grateful bow and pink rose in Harry’s mouth. Colourful fireworks exploded behind him, and more sprinkled across the city's skyline. A transcendent ending to the east coast leg of this tour.

Harry knew he had to be back on his bus within the hour - America’s southern cities awaited him for another round of shows - But as soon as he made it off stage, his only priority was getting to a phone. Try to reach Louis before he spent sixteen hours on the lonely open road.

It had been ten days since they last spoke. Harry called him any chance he got and seemingly missed him at every opportunity. It was only  _ slightly _ worrying, but it chipped away at him enough to place him on the anxious side of desperate.

“Jeff!” Harry shouted through the madness of the backstage area. His manager looking quite horridly frazzled himself as the stage crew bustled ceaselessly around them.

Harry ran towards him, bypassing a group of women fawning over his bandmates, and tugged Jeff carelessly over to the side. Not wasting a second on finding proper privacy.

“I'm busy, Harry.” Jeff griped as he wiped the beads of sweat from his temples. “We have to load all of this up and have it in Knoxville by—”

“I know,  _ I know _ , and I'll let you get on with it, I just need the mobile phone. Please.” Harry begged.

“Mobile? Mobile  _ phone _ ? What—”

“The bloody brick you're always carrying around. The one for emergencies and shit.”

“Oh, right,” Jeff laughed at his own confusion. Perhaps he was a bit stoned from second hand smoke himself. “Yeah, you're not allowed to use that. Smashing up the last one put a huge dent in the labels budget – and let me tell you - they were not very hap—”

“ _ Jesus,  _ Jeff, this isn’t a joke.” Harry took a deep breath and pushed his windblown quiff up off his forehead. “Look, I don't mean to be a prick, but I haven't been able to reach Louis for nearly two weeks, and it's starting to psych me out. I've been ringing him since New York and not  _ once _ has he picked up.”

“Shit, Harry, why didn't you say something? D’you want me to send someone over to your house or—”

“No, mate, I just need the mobile—can you make an exception just this once? If I don't try and reach him now, I'm not sure when I'll talk to him next, just,  _ please.” _

“Yeah, man, yeah, it's alright.” Jeff squeezed his shoulder in reassurance and looked up through sympathizing eyes. “Just go onto my bus. Should be in a green bag, in the front sitting room.”

“Fuck—thank you, Jeff. I'll be on my bus shortly after, I promise. Thank you.”

Harry rushed away from Jeff's side and ran in the direction of the buses. It was probably a bit reckless to run through the backstage area, and into the exiting crowd without protection, but as of that moment, no one could touch him. He bobbed and weaved through the spaces of the masses. Brushing shoulders accidentally, and gasping out quick apologies.

The bus filled lot was just across the street, and Jeff's bus seemingly gleamed under the light of a flickering lamp post. Harry ducked his head as he attempted to blend into the crowd, praying that every last person surrounding him was too stoned, or too wrapped up in each other, to notice.

Harry slowly made his way across the street, unscathed and unbothered. A group of girls next to him may have eyed him suspiciously but, thankfully, didn't make a fuss of it.

Harry hurried down the pavement, finally reaching Jeff’s bus, nearly yanking the door off its weathered hinges. The bloody sitting room was filthy. Stained with the scent of pot, cigarettes, and body fluids shared between the grungy lot that kipped here.

Clothing and takeaway boxes were thrown about in the messiest of ways. Films and cassettes collected dust and grime out of their cases, and walkmans were carelessly scattered across the floor. Jesus, it was a madhouse in here. For once, Harry was extremely glad he didn't have to share a bus with anybody.

Through all the mess, he sought out the green bag beneath a questionably stained shirt, and jumbled cords all around. Harry dug for the mobile phone, immediately dialing Louis’ line when he felt the keys beneath his thumbs. He moved to the front of the bus, dropping down into the cleanliness of the driver’s seat, and resting his pounding head against the leather of the steering wheel.

Post show adrenaline coursed through his tingling veins. Racing heartbeat catching up with his rapid breathing and vision going a bit fuzzy around the edges. He clenched his eyes shut and took deep breaths through his nose. Focusing solely on the connecting tone, buzzing constantly in his ear.

Louis was somewhere on the other side of that line, and Harry knew the gentle tenor of his voice would soothe his jittery soul.  

Unfortunately, like the other nights behind him, the line rang and rang, and Louis’ voice never came through. Never met him halfway. Harry ended the call, dialing the number once more and using every available minute left on this device.

Underneath his hopeful facade, Harry  _ knew _ he was fighting a losing battle. He knew that it was unlike Louis to not pick up the phone around the second or third ring, and if Harry was left waiting longer than that, he knew there was no chance Louis was even home.

Harry was hanging on by a thread and it worried him to no end. He didn't know where Louis was or what he was up to these days, and the painful hands of doubt wrapped around his neck at night, squeezing every ounce of the hope from his lungs, and reminding him that there was no definite way to stop them from drifting.

If that's what was happening, anyway. It sometimes felt like it.

Harry brought the mobile away from his ear as he lifted his head to glare at it. The end button silently mocked him as he pressed it down with a weak thumb and bitten lips.

It was agonizing not knowing if Louis was safe, or if he was missing Harry, or ignoring him purposely. It hurt not knowing if Harry scared him off for good, somehow. It was exhausting being so in the dark, and the negative thoughts infesting his brain were beginning to overwhelm him, as well.

Harry was gutted. He wasn't exactly sure what to do or how to put any more effort in. There was only so much he could do on his own from nearly two thousand miles away, and it hurt to admit that to himself.

Shakily, he stood from the driver’s seat. Carefully moving to pack the mobile away and get himself the fuck off this bus. The only thing Harry could think to do, was write him. Even if he felt more up for a quick cry and a sleepless night on the road.

He knew he had to. For the sake of both of them.

 

\--

 

_ Louis, _

_ You’re a constant on my mind tonight. I wish you would pick up the phone. _

_ Miss you, always. _

_ -H _

 

_ *** _

 

**March 14, 1983**

 

Fourteen days and eight hundred seventy four miles since New York. 

Harry was sat on the filthy balcony of his motel room, somewhere outside of northern Atlanta, plucking somberly at his acoustic guitar. The neon lights from the motel sign reflected off of the ripples of the pool water and Harry was lost in the way the rays danced across his bare skin. Moonlight was missing from the blackened sky tonight and white stars twinkled dully behind the clouds of dusk.

Harry finally had a night off, with a proper bed, and a proper shower. Both calling him to rest, and tempting him back indoors with the promise of everything his bus could not give him. But the telephone waiting by his bedside kept him rooted to his spot.

The only vessel that connected him to Louis never intimidated him so harshly. With so many calls ignored or unanswered, Harry felt more of a burden each time he dialed their line.

Such an absurd feeling, and he knew it, but spending hours alone with one negative  _ what if, _ could spiral into convincing anyone of anything. So he avoided the telephone, and the entire proximity around it.

Harry looked up just as the last remaining room light flickered out into darkness, letting him know he was the last one awake, and that everyone else on this tour was getting the rest they deserved. Harry was exhausted just as well, but sleep didn't come to him so easily these days.

Harry allowed his pessimism to go silent. Just for a moment. Filling the air around him with soft melodies and letting his body go numb to the stress.

It was nearing two in the morning now, and he knew there was no way Louis would answer from midnight on the west coast. There was no use in dwelling over it. All he could do was try to reach him in the morning, and hope that Louis would wake up to him on the other side.

 

\--

 

Tequila coloured sunshine spilled onto the shaggy carpet floors and threadbare sheets through the open windowpane of his dingy motel room. Chilly spring breeze cooling the heat of his skin and filtering out the smoke and stench of his burned out spliff. 

The telephone weighed heavy in his fist and the cord constricted tightly around the bones of his fingers. An area code and seven numbers kept him nervous and jittery, similar to the first time he ever dialed Louis’ line. Only, these nerves weren't light and fluttery, but harshly ruffled and worrisome.

Harry’s hand moved across the numbers before his brain thought better of it. Everything was slowed down and still around him. Breeze once chilling his skin replaced with burning, suffocating, heat. The rhythm of the line ringing in his ear the only thing keeping him tethered to reality—

“Hello?"

Harry swallowed. Shaking and sobering. Voice of his favorite person reaching him through the wire.  _ Finally. _

“Hey, baby," Harry nearly whispered through a troubled sigh. Tears filling up his eyes and relief choking up his homesick throat. He underestimated just how much he missed him.

"Harry, hey,” Louis sighed as well. Seemingly relieved but a bit apprehensive.  

“How are you, honey? It's been so long I—I've been trying to reach you.”

“I'm good, babe. M’doing well.” there was strain in his voice and Harry picked up on it even through the hydroponic haze of his mind. “Fuck, I'm sorry I have to cut this short, but I'm expecting a call from my new agent, and I need to keep this line open. Will you be able to call later tonight?"

“I have, I have a show later…” Harry trailed off. Effects of his spliff slowing down the pace of his words even more than usual. “M’not sure how late I'll be—”

“I'll wait up for you,” Louis interrupted Harry’s incomplete thought. “M’sorry I have to go like this but I just—m’sorry. I'll talk to you soon.”

And as quickly as he appeared back into Harry’s life, he was gone. Cut off with a crisp click and the sound of silence, followed by the tone of a disconnected line. Harry didn't have it in him to cry. The emotion burned in his chest but the tears wouldn't fall. It hurt. It really fucking hurt.

 

\--

 

**March 27, 1983**

  
"A month of silence from you, and now that I've finally reached you, you're cutting me short, again?  _ Twice _ since you've actually picked up?"   
  
Harry went through with calling Louis later that night a whole three weeks ago. Every call since then has gone unanswered, including that one. 

Some nights Harry didn't even bother to pick up the phone to reach him. Some nights he put  _ all  _ the effort in, calling him more than once and forcing himself not to give up.

Sweat still dripped past his skin from the heat of the stage lights as his body still shook with post show adrenaline. Locked away in his dressing room, he wasn't quite sure how he found himself in the thick of this argument. Or why he was suddenly so heated. But it was the first time he has gotten Louis to answer after a show in a  _ month _ , and suddenly Louis had to leave.

"I mean, I'm sorry the timing is awful, but I need to go—"

"Go fucking where, Louis?” Harry cursed regretfully, yet carried on with his point. “What out there is so important that you have to put us on hold, huh? Twenty nine days without answering my calls, and you can't even spare five bloody minutes to talk to me? Are you even in this anymore?”

"Of course I am, you arsehole. I've just been a bit busy! I can't mope around and wait by the phone for hours like you expect me to, I have a life to live!” Louis cried through the line, frustration clear in his tone. “You don't put yours on hold for me, so. why should I for you?"   
  
"What are you on about, Lou? I've never expected you to wait around for me. I've always wanted the opposite for you. I want you to flourish, even when I'm gone!"   
  
"And I'm working on that, Harry. You would bloody know that if you ever thought about anything other than yourself."   
  
"Do you  _ actually _ believe that? Do you really think when my days are spent mostly on the road, doing fuck all, that I’m only thinking of myself? You really think I’m not out here thinking about you? That I'm not wondering where you are, or what you're doing, or why you won't answer my calls? You think that doesn't steer my mind into the darkest of places while I'm sitting in my own head for hours? I'm always thinking about you, and us, and if you're safe out there, to the point where I can't even sleep at night. Why do you think I write you so often, huh? Do you even read my letters, or am I just wasting my bloody ink?"

“Yes, I read your letters Harry, they mean _everything_ to me _._ I love coming home and seeing our mail slot stuffed with them, it makes you feel less far away from me. _God_ , and the fact that you would even suggest that I don't read them is just...” 

Louis trailed off. Hurt evident in his tone.

“I know you're thinking about me, Harry, and I know my absence has driven you up the wall, but I need this. I finally have a life of my own, with friends, and a blossoming career, and you have no right to put this much pressure on me when I've never actually given you a reason to be so insecure.”

“M’not insecure I’m just—I just.”  _ Need you more than you need me. _

“I have to go, Harry. Fionn has been outside this entire time and it's rude to keep him waiting.” Louis sighed through the line and sniffled back his emotions. “You know I'm not going anywhere and it's time you start believing it.”

“Just tell me you love me before you go.” Harry begged. “Tell me we’ll be alright.”

“I do. I love you very much, Harry,” Louis vowed, slight quiver to his voice. “And we will be alright, I'm sure of it. You just have to meet me halfway.”

Harry wasn't sure what that meant or where on earth Louis needed him to begin. But he supposed that was up to him to figure out, and his lips wouldn't move to ask anyway.

“I've got to go now. I'll see you when I see you.”

 

***

 

**April 12th, 1983**

 

Every day was rain. Every road was closed. Past three Floridian shows cancelled due to power outages and dangerous weather. Harry focused on the constant pitter patter tapping against the fogged up motel window. Seemingly not dangerous. Seemingly soft. Something like cleansing the earth and its soil, and endless winds calming the anger of the waves. 

Harry might have been a bit high. The lads hotboxed his room earlier due to there being fuck all to do, but he genuinely felt at ease in the eye of the storm surrounding him.

And perhaps that was a bit more metaphorical than he ever preferred.

 

***

 

**April 15th,1983**

 

_ Maybe relationships weren’t meant to last while living on the road. _

Once the words were forced past Harry’s lips, he couldn’t help but believe them. The bond between Louis and himself was always so incredibly strong. They shared everything with each other, they argued and worked through it as a couple, Harry would tell Louis when he was being a brat, and Louis would call him out for being an arsehole. They trusted each other. Loved each other. And neither one of them ever had to second guess those facts even with distance put between them.

There was no effort anymore. No communication. Louis never bothered to pick up the phone and Harry never bothered to call him. Even his letters were beginning to dwindle.

“Oh, stop it, Harry. You’re just making excuses for yourself.”

“But it’s true, Sarah. Louis and I have never gone this long without talking after an argument. We used to not even be able to go to bed without working it out with each other, and now It’s like—it’s like I can feel him slipping and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Almost like I’m just not good enough for him anymore.”

“And why would you ever think that?” Sarah lifted her lit cigarette to her lips, inhaling the toxins and blowing them into the cramped space of Harry’s bus. The smell was reminiscent of Louis, but Harry convinced himself that he wouldn’t remember his scent after so long, anyway.

“Well, he’s an actor, and he landed this really sick role that he can’t even tell me about. And he has this friend in LA that he spends all his time with, and they bloody adore each other, and it just feels like he might be moving on without me. I can’t even give us a fighting chance because I’m stuck on this tour.”

“Do you really feel that way? Like, you really feel as if you’re stuck?”

Harry paused to consider. Bus rocking against the slick roadways and nothing but endless time on his hands.

‘Stuck’ may have been the wrong word, but how else could he describe it? The stage lights and loyal fans called to him every night, and he flocked to them like a bat out of hell. It was no secret he basked in the theatrics and glamour of it all.

Singing live was the only path Harry ever saw for himself. Whether he was collecting pounds on a street corner or selling out tours all over the world. Music was his first love and brought him to the only man he ever loved. Without music there was no Louis and Harry. But with it there _still_ was no Louis and Harry.

“No,” Harry answered. “I don’t feel stuck.”

“Didn’t think so.” she dramatically took a pull from her burning cigarette. “Sounds to me like you’re just afraid. Maybe a bit jealous.”

“Jealous?” Harry asked. “What on earth could I possibly be jealous of?”

“Well, surely you made it a point to mention the friend he made, and how they  _ bloody adore each other.  _ You said you’ve questioned the trust in your relationship but you have no real reason why. What’s the lad’s name, again?”

“Fionn,” Harry spat with a roll of his eyes. “I’ve never even met the lad, he probably thinks Louis is making me up by now if he ever even brings me up anymore.”

“Have you ever considered he spends so much time with Fionn because he fills some sort of gap while you’re away? That maybe Louis was sick of feeling lonely and he clung on to the first person that befriended him?”

“No, I haven’t.” Harry bit at his nails. “Louis tells me he’s fine whenever I get a hold of him. He always handles the separation better than I do.”

“Or maybe he’s just better at hiding it, mate.” Sarah stubbed out her cigarette and lifted to sit up straight. “Maybe him dodging your calls is his way of avoiding his feelings about how it actually kills him to not have you around, and maybe he’s doing it for your sake.”

“My sake?”

“Yeah.” Sarah nodded. “You and I both know if Louis ever  _ actually _ told you he wanted you home, you would not be sat on this tour bus right now. It would be the same if Clare asked me to leave, I’d be home before Jeff could hunt me down for rehearsals. But we both know neither of them would ask that of us because there’s just too much love there. How could either of them ask us to drop everything we’ve worked our whole lives for, solely for them?”

Harry swallowed down her effortless wisdom. Speaking all the truths he needed to hear and making everything so clear to him. There was nothing he could do at the moment, and nothing he could do for a long time coming, but his heart felt a little less restless. His love life felt a bit more secure.

“If you ever get a hold of him, you should talk it out, yeah? I know he’s stubborn as a bloody mule, but at least you’ll be able to say you tried, and know in your heart that you didn’t give up.”

“Yeah,” Harry’s voice quivered. “Yeah, I will.”

 

\--

 

The bus rounding the slick corner into the arena jostled Harry awake. Lounge bench shaking and tipping over Harry’s cup of tea gone cold. He wasn’t sure where he was. Wasn’t even sure of the time. Brain still too fuzzy from the first deep sleep he’s had in ages.

Sarah watched him with a quiet giggle. Choppy bangs falling into her blue eyes as she shouldered the weight of her overnight bag. The bus rolled to a stop and she moved to give Harry the alone time he requested before every show.

“We made good time.” she shrugged before stepping over towards the exit. “Not too many people on the road I suppose. See you at sound check, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes and exhaled exhaustion from the back of his lungs. “See you in a bit.”

Harry checked the time of his wrist watch before slipping it off. Still a few hours before he actually needed to be anywhere or do anything.

Maybe he should shower. Maybe he should take another nap or fix himself another steaming hot cup of lemon tea. Anything to avoid having this major talk with Louis. A talk that could possibly end up in another argument and further separate them in terms of communication. That is, if Louis even decided to answer.

Harry pulled his tea stained shirt over his face, loudly sighing and scrubbing his frustrations into the fibers of the fabric. He peeled the shirt from his tense shoulders as he turned to head to the back of his bus.

All alone with not much else to do, he stripped down to his pants, and tossed his clothing into the back room. Just as he lifted up on his toes to climb up into a lonesome bunk, there was a knock on his door. The first just a gentle tap, but the others following more thorough and ugent. With a roll of his eyes, Harry stomped towards the front of his bus. Taking the front steps one a time and carefully pushing the door open.

“I thought it was understood that I want to be left alone—”

“Hey.”

Stood before Harry was a fearful looking Louis and a clearly irritated Jeff. Heart rate increased and dropped into his stomach, Harry didn’t know what to do. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

Was this a fever dream? Was Louis actually right there in front of him? Harry wanted to reach out and touch but was bloody frozen to the spot.

“He flew in this morning and apparently never booked somewhere to stay,”Jeff spoke through exhaustion. “You two clearly have some issues to work out and it would be great if this didn’t happen again, alright? I can coordinate last minute visits, but I need more of a warning next time. You better hope the label never gets wind of this or you can both say goodbye to your careers.”

“Jesus, Jeff. Relax,” Harry said through pinched brows. “S’not like he’s just anyone—he has all access for every show whether we expect him or not—”

“You know  _ exactly _ why having your boyfriend show up out of the blue is a problem. Especially when he’s roaming around a southern arena looking like he just got back from pride, and asking people for you by name,” Jeff reminded as he looked angrily between the two of them. “It’s not a good look for  _ you _ , Harry, and if I would’ve had just a little more warning I could’ve had him picked up from the airport and dropped off here when you arrived.  _ Privately. _ ”

“It won’t happen again, Jeff,” Louis swore with a look of guilt on his face. “I’m sorry, I was just desperate, I—I wasn’t really thinking.”

“Well, fucking think about what you’re doing next time—”

“Watch how you talk to him!” Harry cut off sharply. “He’s clearly afraid, and alone, and it's not like he caused a scene. He said it wouldn’t happen again, so it won’t.  _ Fucking _ relax.”

The three of them stood in silence. Jeff slightly taken aback by Harry’s seething tone and Louis looking no less guilty than he did before. Harry did not mean to come off so harsh, but he could not help it with Louis looking so distressed and Jeff speaking to him like a bloody child.

“Look, I don’t mean to be a dick, but protecting your personal life and relationship is part of my job. Not only as a manager but as a friend. We’ll talk more about this later, but it’s clear you two need each other, so, I’ll just be on my way.” Jeff sighed as he began to stiffly walk in another direction. “Don’t be late for soundcheck.”

Harry watched as Jeff walked between the row of buses and disappeared just around the corner. He let his eyes linger across the way as he couldn't yet bring himself to look down at Louis. Not sure what to say and not quite sure why he was here.

Muddled in a fog of emotions, he could not decide if he was ecstatic or angry. Resentful or joyful. He only knew he was confused and more than anything wanted to kiss him.

“Harry,” Louis whispered from the bottom of the steps as he moved in closer and cupped a hand around Harry’s bare hip. “Will you look at me?”

Harry rolled his head back. Eyes squeezed shut and vision consumed in darkness. These were the last few moments he had to himself before he knew he had to face this. Whatever  _ this _ was that they were going through.

His eyes blinked open and his head dipped to take in the vision of Louis. Soft hair, tired eyes, and a cropped shirt adorned with a single pink triangle. It's no wonder Jeff nearly lost his mind. Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight of him.

“Hi, sugar.” Harry grabbed Louis’ hand around his waist and laced it between his own. “How long are you here for?”

“A day.” Louis shrugged with a downward curl of his lips. “Maybe less. M’not so sure.”

Silence settled between the two of them. Louis glancing up at him through exhausted eyes and Harry resisting the urge to pull him into the heat of his chest. It hurt him to do so, but Harry has been hurt for months. He needed answers. He  _ needed _ communication.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked through a clench of his heart. Hoping not to come off as bitter as the words felt.

“I'm here to be with you.”

It was so simple. So sweet and so honest. The urgent  _ need, _ to talk about their problems subsided and was replaced with wanting to make the most of the little time they  _ did _ have together.

Harry pulled Louis forward and led him up the steps into his bus. Shutting the door behind him and locking it securely, his eyes never left Louis’ and Louis’ never left his.

Harry carefully pushed his fingers through the soft fringe of Louis’ hair, cupping the edge of his face and letting his thumb drag over the pink shade of his thin lips. Blue eyes blinked up at him, wet and shining with guilt. Looking as if he was about to speak overdue apologies into existence, or hand over alibis on why he has been so absent for so long, and perhaps one day they would trade their wrongs and overwhelm each other with forgiveness, but for right now, Harry would rather them not speak at all.

Their lips met halfway. Gentle and hesitant, yet pleading for more. Louis pressed their lips in harder, exerting the weight of longing and desperation behind every push of his mouth. Lips clasping against Harry’s bottom one, kissing, sucking, and teasing with the sharp edge of his lovesick teeth.

Harry could hardly breathe. Body instinctively attracted to a love he has not known for months. Desperate to rediscover his flavour all over again.

Every day without Louis was a never ending blue Monday. Every day went without his sweetness and warmth and the radiant colours of his flame. The tenor of his voice became unfamiliar and muddled between going so long without the sound of it and getting lost with every other voice clouding Harry’s memory.

But he was here now, warming Harry’s bones with lips like summer. Every moment in his arms felt like a Sunday stroll through London. Beautiful and stormy and feeling every bit like home. God, how he has missed him.

“Why must you be so cruel,” Harry whispered as he dug his hands into the visible skin of Louis’ hips. “Wearing a cutoff shirt and jeans this tight. Who allowed you to be this fit, huh?”

Louis huffed out half a giggle. Shaking his head bashfully and curling his fingers securely into Harry’s skin.

“Who allowed  _ you  _ to greet me in nothing but your pants, hmm? Seems equally as cruel if you ask me.”

Harry watched as Louis’s smile never reached his eyes. The look quickly slipping from his cheeks and molding back into that same fearful frown he was wearing when he arrived. His face was pleading. Thumbs and fingers rubbing against Harry’s skin rapidly. Fidgety. Sort of in the way he normally gets before he begs to be taken apart until he’s unable to think.

It normally went unspoken but Harry  _ knew _ . Harry would know this behavior in his sleep.

“Louis, I’m here, yeah?” Harry pulled Louis into his chest, letting him cling to his body and press his lips wherever he pleased. “M’not angry with you or disappointed, but I do hate seeing you so anxious.” Harry paused to pull Louis back and look him in the eyes. Both still so muddled and blue. “I can tell you’re still worked up, babe. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Well—I dunno.” Louis struggled. “Jeff just made it seem like my presence could end your bloody tour or something. I mean, I know what would happen if anyone found out about us, but, Jeff just—he was such a prick about it. I didn't mean any harm, I just—”

“Jeff is a tosser don’t worry about him.” Harry assured with a caress to his spine. “You know you’re always welcome on this tour, whether you let us know you’re coming, or not.”

“I know, I know,” Louis choked out. “S’more than just that, though. It’s months and months of shit just adding up. It’s just….”

Louis sighed dejectedly into Harry’s chest. Soft scruff of his cheeks gently prickling at Harry’s skin and anxious fingers digging into the back of his neck.

Louis didn't speak a word, but Harry heard his every last thought. Felt his every last plea. Was well aware that Louis needed him to make him feel wanted. To remove him from the suffocating headspace he was clearly suffering in.

“Tell Daddy what you need.” Harry lowly whispered into Louis’ ear, kissing his temple and pulling back to look him in the eyes. “Wanna take care of you. Wanna make you feel good. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Louis stared back at him blankly. Eyes still slightly clouded with guilt, and apprehension, and something Harry couldn’t quite place. Harry wanted that look gone. Wanted to replace it with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks and a blissed out smile knowing he did nothing but please.

“Wanna be taken out of my own head for a bit.” Louis spoke with underlying trust. A soft edge to his voice and a needy grip on Harry’s neck. “Want you to take me apart, want you to deny me, want you to make me earn my stay here, and then I want you put me back together again. I want to obey you. I want to be good for you. Want you to give me everything you know I deserve but won't confront me for.”

Harry’s jaw clenched at his words. Knowing Louis was referring to his behavior over the past month or so, but not speaking it out loud. Louis looked back at him pleadingly. Eyes shining and lip pouting. Harry kissed the look from his face and lifted a hand to softly scratch at the hair behind his ear.

“We’ll confront those issues later.” Harry whispered low and stern, unable to keep himself from asserting his dominance before pressing a hard kiss to Louis’ desperate lips. “For now, get undressed, and kneel before me with your hands behind your back.”

“Okay,” Louis whispered. He panted out a relieved sigh, withdrawing his hands from Harry’s neck and moving them to reach for his zipper. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“Yeah, baby, of course.” Harry backed up just as Louis’ trousers hit the floor. “I'll be right back.”

Forcing his legs to be patient, Harry walked purposefully toward the back room, yanking the door open and beginning to rummage through the luggage case he knew had lube it in. Clothing, boots, and accessories alike were packed to the brim, doing little but slowing Harry down.

As he hurriedly shuffled through the bulk of his belongings, a scarf made of pink silk slithered tantalizingly beneath his fingertips. He twisted it in the minimal light, observing the delicate floral patterns curling around the length of the fabric and planting images in his brain of just how gorgeous it would look wrapped around Louis’ wrists.

Harry tucked the thin scarf into the waistband of his pants and shortly after found the lube buried under a stack of trousers.

Harry took his time carefully folding and repacking, feeling a bit adrenalized  _ knowing _ Louis was anticipating his arrival, and  _ knowing _ he was making him wait longer for it.

He placed his trousers neatly on top of each other, letting each stack reach a certain height and slowly moving onto the next. It was driving Harry  _ mad. _ Just envisioning Louis out there, waiting, withering, and needy. Louis on his knees, vulnerable, hands clasped tight behind his back and perfect body rid of his clothing.

The mood was electric and stimulated. Tension lithe and rousing. Harry was nearly high from it. Hands shaking with power and heart pounding to the vision of Louis’  _ need. _

“ _ Daddy," _  Louis called softly from his spot of the floor, making Harry’s skin prickle with desire and intense need for his boy. “Where did you go?”

The meek rasp in his voice went straight to Harry’s cock, the gentle tone luring its way into the room and wrapping itself around him like silk. He quickly shoved his clothing down and zipped the luggage tight, practically tripping over himself and snatching the lube on his way out.

Harry paused in the doorway, squaring his shoulders and clenching his jaw at the magnificent sight of Louis. His naked body was flushed in rose and his knees dug into the floor beneath him, arms tense and clasped, and chest heaving with titillation. Harry could not wait to take him apart and soothe him.

“Look up at me, darling.” Harry placed a finger beneath Louis’ chin and lifted his face upward. Louis’ blue eyes shined beneath his slightly messy fringe and soft pink lips were bitten in anticipation. Always more gorgeous than Harry‘s visions. “I love you, and I'm going to take care of you, but it's not going to come easy, yes? No punishments this time around, but you are not to come until I tell you to, understood?”

“Yes, Da—”

“And you are not to speak unless I give you permission.” Harry gave him a hard stare as Louis nodded in understanding.

Harry took a second to stare at his boy. So trusting. So ready to submit. Harry pet the softest parts of Louis’ fringe, threading his fingers through the silky strands and bending to press one last kiss to his forehead.

“My sweet boy. My  _ sweet _ baby boy. Stay perfectly still for me.”

Harry dropped the bottle of lube to the ground as he slowly circled around his body, indulging in the sight of his blushing skin and the gentle curve of his arse.

Once he was fully behind Louis, Harry pulled the scarf from his waistband, and bent down to Louis’ level. Carefully, he brought the fabric around Louis’ wrists and tied it so there was still enough room to wiggle but tight enough for him to feel it.

“How does that feel?” Harry whispered into the shell of his ear. He pressed kisses along Louis’ neck and felt the bob of his every swallow. “Answer me.”

“Feels good, Daddy.” Louis exhaled as Harry sucked greedily on his skin. “S’just tight enough to hurt a little.”

“Good,” Harry mumbled as he nibbled teasingly at Louis’ earlobe, and made him shiver against the warmth of his breath. “Gonna have you suck my cock now.”

Louis moaned at the back of his throat, mouth hinging open even before Harry got around to him. He was so eager, so  _ desperate _ to please. Harry got up from behind him and dropped his pants as he came around. His cock was only half hard but  _ well _ on its way.

“Look at you,” Harry said with a stroke to himself and a tight grip on Louis’ hair, pulling  _ both _ generously, but not enough to hurt. “You’ve been so deprived of Daddy’s cock, haven’t you? I bet you can’t wait to get your greedy mouth on me.”

Harry pulled Louis back by his hair and slipped himself in between his lips, sliding against the slick of his tongue and inching his tip languidly towards the back of his throat.

It felt  _ amazing _ . Harry pulled his cock out slowly, letting the tip of it drag against Louis’ tongue and watching his precome melt in his mouth like sugar.

Harry thrust his hips forward. Shoving the length of his cock down his throat once more, and going weak in the knees as Louis gagged his way around him. The tight heat of his mouth swallowed his shaft and his skilled tongue worked its way across his underside.

“You love this, don’t you baby?” Harry’s voice rumbled through his chest as his eyes fluttered shut from the pleasure. “Love sucking my cock ‘til you choke, huh? Love that I give you this privilege even though we both know you don’t deserve it.”

Louis nodded through tear filled eyes and a mouth full of cock, sucking Harry off like he was bloody made for it—like he was afraid Harry would change his mind at any moment, and the only way to convince him to stay, was through his mouth.

Hollowing out his cheeks and brokenly moaning around his length, Louis was messy yet careful, and thorough all at the same time,  _ just _ how Harry liked it. Harry caressed his thumbs over Louis’ cheekbones, dragging them slightly down and feeling himself stretch out the corner of Louis’ dripping lips. Precome and saliva thick like honey.

“Pull off,” Harry instructed through a strained voice. He knew he could come in Louis’ mouth just like this. But not yet. Not now.

Louis obeyed immediately, ribbons of precome connected his swollen lips to the tip of Harry’s cock. Nothing could possibly be more gorgeous than this.

“Get your mouth on my bollocks and suck.”

Louis did as he was told. Inhaling the sharp scent of Harry before sucking his balls into his mouth, and— _ fuck _ . Louis was  _ lost _ in it. Sucking his left on the verge of too tight and too painful, and suddenly moving on to swirl both of them around in his mouth stretched so wide and so full. His tongue slicked them up and the inside of his cheeks cradled them perfectly. He was practically gagging on Harry’s balls alone, and it felt unbelievable.

“ _ Fucking hell _ , you’re so good at this,” Harry praised as he panted through waves of arousal. Threading one hand through Louis’ disheveled fringe and tightly stroking himself with the other. “Always know how to get Daddy off, don’t you? I’d come on your pretty face right now if I didn’t already know that’s exactly what you want.”

Louis whimpered through his mouth full of Harry. The sound was something akin to begging. He pulled off messily to breathe and rested his clammy cheek against Harry’s thigh, back heaving and eyes rimmed with fresh tears. Such a beautiful sight, practically wrecked and not even halfway through.

“I don’t remember telling you to pull off,” Harry voiced breathlessly, pulling Louis up by the hair and ever so carefully sliding his cock back between his lips.

Slowly, he pushed until he felt the back of Louis’ throat close against his tip, then steadily dragged his cock back out, creating a torturous push and pull for the both of them and stalling his own orgasm just to be sure Louis felt the ache of his open jaw.

“You can do better than that, baby. Know you can take me deeper. Swallow my cock.”

Louis whined in frustration. Pulling against the restraint of his wrists and relaxing his throat as best he could. It was clear just how worked up he was. His cock hard and leaking, body flushed and glowing, desire in his eyes swimming in the tears threatening to spill over onto his bottom lashes.

Harry knew his knees were burning by now. Knew that his thighs would soon begin to quiver from holding himself still and keeping his body taut against a thorough mouth fucking.

Harry knew he could push him further. Knew that Louis loved the scorching sting and plum coloured bruises that reminded him of just how well he did—Just how intensely he  _ pleased. _

It was sometimes beyond Harry how Louis found the pain so enjoyable, but it was not up to him to decide what Louis found pleasure in, it was only up to him to satisfy his every need and keep him safe within the process.

“Spread your knees further.” Harry softly instructed. Picking up the pace of his thrusts and managing to not let his cock slip free. Louis moaned through the stretch of his groin. Taking a moment to control his breathing and relax his jaw even further. “There we go, baby. Feels so good—so good for Daddy. Keep it up and I  _ might  _ let you swallow my come.”

As if it was all the motivation he needed, Louis took Harry down effortlessly. Little choked off moans rattled in the back of his throat and Harry’s hips thrashed around sloppily, somewhat desperately.

The urge to come was whirling inside him like a raging storm. Harry knew Louis asked to be denied and knew emptying his load down Louis’ throat would only read as a reward. So he quickly fucked forward. Tightening his hold in Louis’ hair and praising his sinful tongue, just before coldly pulling out, and letting his come drip down against the shag carpet of the floor.

Louis looked pained and somewhat surprised. As if he felt like he earned the taste of Harry’s spunk and couldn’t believe Harry ripped that away from him. In a sadistic way, it made Harry smirk from above him. Getting his final strokes out as Louis gaped at him from the floor.

“Swallowing my come is a privilege. One you  _ surely _ haven’t earned yet.” Harry panted through a fistful of himself. Bringing his come covered hand up to Louis’ lips and silently daring him to have a taste.

Louis whined in his place and tugged against the restraints of his wrists, weakly hissing as the fabric dug deeper and deeper. Harry pulled his hand away as Louis’ quick tongue darted out for a taste. Taking pleasure in the sound of Louis wanting more without uttering a single word.  _ Goodness, _ he was so well behaved—

“I earned it,” Louis spat petulantly. “I was so good for you, I did everything you said—”

Harry abruptly stuffed two fingers in Louis’ overly spoiled mouth. Effectively silencing him and watching him gag on his drying come.

“I did not give you permission to speak, little one.”

Harry watched as Louis’ lashes fluttered shut and fanned prettily against his blush stained cheeks. It was clear he was enjoying this. Evident in the way he sucked Harry’s fingers between his greedy lips and let his tongue indulge in the taste of him.

Harry pressed down gently, halting the movements of Louis’ mouth and seizing any pleasure Louis got out of this.

“Can’t keep your mouth shut for long, can you baby? Have to practically gag you to get you to keep quiet.”

Louis smirked around his fingers. Smile reaching the corners of his tear filled eyes and pupils dilating wider the longer he looked up at Harry. Something like falling into a trance. Something like focusing on the face of the man he loves and trusts indefinitely.

Harry slipped his fingers from his mouth and lifted Louis’ face carefully by the chin. So wide-eyed, so vulnerable.

“Want you face down in the sheets of my bed,” Harry instructed. “Want your legs spread and your arse up. The only time you're allowed to speak is when you're spoken to, and if I hear one sound from that pretty mouth, I'll take all my touches away and let you sit there and think about what you've done. Do you want that, angel? Want me to leave you needy and helpless?”

“No, Daddy,” Louis panted as he moved to nuzzle his cheek against the soft and inked skin of Harry’s hip. “I'll be good. I  _ promise _ .”

“Stand up.”

Louis scrambled up to his feet, his knees nearly giving out beneath him. Harry was there. Always watching. Always ready to provide care and protection for his boy. He pulled Louis in by the waist, holding up his quivering weight, and feeling Louis’ leaking cock against him.

Naturally _ ,  _ he was so into this. It was so tempting to just give in and give Louis everything he needed, but Harry was simply too in love with the power. The  _ control _ over Louis’ pleasure and being the one that gives him permission to indulge.

Harry watched as Louis licked his lips in a daze. Soft smile colouring his face and cheeks burning under the heat of Harry’s stare. The sight was intoxicating. He hoped Louis would never stop looking at him this way.

Without removing Louis from his grip, Harry carefully picked up the bottle of lube, and began to lead them into the privacy of his back room. He used his free hand to wrap tightly around Louis’ cock as he walked them backwards through the narrow hall of the bus.

Louis’ mouth fell open and he soon became like putty in his hold. Harry’s hand twisted around him unrelentingly. Tugging at his length and thumbing harshly at the head of his dick. Louis could barely walk and was fortunate to have Harry guiding him.

“Lay on the bed how I told you, doll.”

Louis nearly crumbled as Harry removed his hands and stepped away. Stumbling over towards the dark sheets of the bed, he climbed up the mattress by skin of his bright red knees. He struggled to shoulder his way forward and whined as a result of having his arms bound and useless.

Harry  _ groaned _ . Watching Louis’ arse shake and spread as he positioned himself vulnerably. Face buried in the cushion of the pillows and hands straining against the pink fabric of the silk. Harry wanted to tear him up. Wanted to take his time and bite every last inch of him, from the back of his thighs, to the tip of his spine.

Harry blanketed himself over Louis. Setting the bottle of lube to the side and bending to whisper in his ear.

“Do  _ not _ come.”

With that single warning, Harry embarked on the path that was Louis’ body. Sucking hard against the corner of his neck, biting down where his shoulder met his back, and filthily kissing until he reached the knob of Louis spine. He bit carefully as he made his way down. Small teeth marks sinking into the skin of his ribs and in between the dips of his waist. Harry couldn't help but indulge in his curves, gripping his hips roughly and sucking blossoming red bruises into them.

Louis whimpered from below, hissing at the tiny bursts of pain and wiggling around as if he wanted more. Harry bit into the curve of his arse cheek. Palming Louis’ bum with his free hand and working one between his legs to fondle the skin of his bollocks.

“Remind me again who you belong to.” Harry spoke against Louis’ arse.

“You.” Louis moaned meekly as Harry moved down to nibble at the crease of his thigh. “Only you, Daddy.  _ Always _ you.”

Harry sighed into Louis’ skin, switching from one to the other and sinking his teeth into the unbitten areas. Louis continued his whimpering. Rolling his hips to the rhythm of Harry’s hand on his cock and spreading his legs further for Harry’s mouth. Harry hadn't even got there yet, but Louis was already assuming his position.

“You're gagging for it—”

“ _ Please,  _ Daddy. Need you.”

“Quiet.” Harry lifted from his crouched position and carefully shoved Louis’ face further into the cushion. “Do not interrupt me again.”

Louis nodded his head in compliance. Tear streaked cheeks only slightly visible from where his blotchy face was hidden. Harry grew gentle - kissing his way back down over every last blooming bite mark. Soothing his bitten skin with tender lips and melodiously whispered praise, he took his palms to Louis’ hips and softly peppered his mouth over the velvety skin of his arse, keeping it slow and  _ teasing,  _ warming Louis up for everything that was yet to come.

Harry let his breath ghost over his opening. The air between them warm and thick like the early spring of April. Louis’ body shook in Harry’s hands. Knees sliding against his sheets and voice caught in the back of his throat.

Harry watched as he squirmed from his crouched position, and when he let the very tip of his tongue graze against the tightness of Louis’ hole, it was impossible for him to not chase.

The instance where his lover's trembling body relaxed under the warmth of a lick, the feel of his lover’s soft ridges and a texture so smooth, the unparalleled moment where Louis slips slowly from his knees, to lay flat and breathless on his stomach, taking every swipe of Harry’s hunger without a word of protest. So pliant and beautiful. There was nothing quite like rimming Louis.

Harry was a bit drunk with it. Burying his face to the point of breathlessness, making a slobbering mess of his lips, cheeks, and the dusting of stubble he worked so hard to grow out. The boneless nature of his boy made him push further. Made him work his tongue in and out until he felt the undeniably pleasured sounds of a moan vibrate against the sheets, and up until he felt Louis’ hips twitch and roll back for  _ moremoremore _ .

“Love having you like this.” Harry breathed heavily against Louis’ cheek, catching his breath and coming down from the dizziness of it all. “No one else could take care of your arse the way I do. No one else could rim you like this, huh? Bet you're so desperate to come already, aren't you, baby?”

Harry reached beneath him and engulfed Louis’ cock in his hand, only moving his thumb to press into his slit, and watching his every reaction carefully. Louis’ face was caught in a gasp. Lips open and eyes clenched shut. His brows furrowed together in a mix of pleasure and pain as his bound arms strained tightly against the silk fabric. Red lines beaming brightly around the skin of his wrists.

Louis’ body was tensing with every little stroke of Harry’s thumb, tummy quivering, and breath choppy, just like every other time he's about to come undone. Harry hummed lowly in his chest as he slowly slipped his hand away.

Louis caught his breath once more, relaxing his tense shoulders, and quietly whimpering from the loss of Harry’s touch. It was gorgeous to deny him. To watch him silently beg with the language of his body.

“You were going to come weren't you?” Harry interrogated with a twist of his lips. “Had I not moved my hand, my sheets would be filthy with your spunk right now, huh? So  _ greedy _ , even after everything I’ve just given you.”

“Daddy,” Louis whimpered, eyes half shut, and hips rolling about. “You make me feel so—so good,  _ please. _ Need your hands on me. I need to come.”

“Being greedy won't get you what you want.” Harry said as he moved to slick his fingers generously with a coat of lube. “You’ll take what you get and you’ll only come when you’re allowed to, and you haven't earned that yet, sweetheart.”

Harry brought Louis’ body back up on his knees and gently circled the rim of his arse. Louis barely had time to plead for more before Harry was easily slipping his finger through. Walls tight and his entrance relaxed, Harry couldn't help but let his tongue explore the stretch of his skin, sucking hard around his hole and feeling the roll of shivers travel down Louis’ spine.

Harry sat up straight, watching his finger pump in and out, and cracking a rough smack to the curve of his arse. Louis rocked forward. Face a lovely shade of pink and sweat coating his body in a natural dewy glow.

Harry brought his hand down once more, indulging in the sight of his cheeks jiggling, and turning a deep crimson shade. Peachy and delicious.

With a thirst for his boy, Harry pulled him back by the hair, and lifted him up until they were pressed together as one. Still working his finger in and out of him and gently pressing his lips to Louis’ nearly wrecked body.

Harry used his free arm to hold Louis against him by the chest. Nosing along the length of his neck and teasing him with the heat of his cutoff breath. He quickly worked in a second finger, latching onto Louis’ neck as his body rocked against him, sucking like mad to form a bruise. Possessiveness curled over him and flourished from the corners of his lonely mouth.

“You're mine.” Harry reminded on a bite. “Say it. Say who you belong to.”

“I'm  _ yours _ , Daddy.”

“Say it, again.” Harry pushed with a curl of his fingers, causing Louis to shake and clench around him. “Tell me you're mine.”

“I'm yours,” Louis sobbed. “ _ I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours _ , and you're mine.”

“That's right, petal.” Harry kissed away the tear that slipped from Louis’ eye. Spreading his fingers quickly inside him and maneuvering in a third one alongside. Harry looked down as Louis practically rode him, awed at the sight, and leaking from his hard cock once again. “Always gonna be yours, honey. Always.”

“Harry— _ Harry. _ ” Louis spluttered out his name.  _ Not ‘ _ Daddy’ or anything alike. Something he normally didn’t do under these circumstances.

“Lou?” Harry paused all his movements. Keeping calm for the sake of Louis but internally fretting over his fear going too far. “Babe, s’everything alright—”

“ _ Choke me, _ ” he begged. “Choke me while you fuck me from behind.”

Harry froze, wind knocked from his lungs and heart gone still in his chest. The words rumbled through his brain, so jarring, and earth shattering.

_ Choke me. _

Something they both wanted to do but never had a go at.

Often times Harry would gaze at the pretty shade of Louis’ neck, would imagine his hand wrapping around his throat, and holding his life within his hand. To be able to control everything down to his pleasure, safety, and breathing. It boggled his mind, but he had faith in their trust, and knew Louis felt the same.

“Yeah?” Harry questioned on a breath. “Think you'll enjoy that?”

“Yeah, Daddy.” Louis turned his head just enough to look Harry in the eye. “I think we need this. Test our trust a bit, yeah? I know you'll take care of me and I know you'll get me there and bring me back down safely.”

Harry’s racing heart slowed. Louis’ words calming him and placing him in the proper headspace for someone in this role. Their dynamic was truly unique; a one of a kind bond where trust was key and taking care of each other was their first priority.

Harry ghosted his fingertips over Louis’ nipples, not taking his eyes off him as Louis shivered, and lolled his neck backwards.

“You trust me, baby?” Harry murmured lowly into his ear. Scissoring his fingers once again and twisting a nipple hard in his hold. Louis could seemingly do nothing more that squirm in response. Sensitivity from both ends silencing him and luring him back into his previous state. “Answer me.”

“ _Yes,”_ Louis cried as Harry shoved his fingers deeper within him. Hitting his prostate with every curl of his hand and stretching him open thoroughly. “Daddy, _please_.”

“Please, what?” Harry teased as he moved his hand from the rosy nub, and glided his way slowly under his jaw. “You want to come? Want to make a mess of yourself with my hand around your neck and my cock in your arse?”

Louis squeezed his eyes shut. Nodding his head rapidly and yelping out a breathy  _ yes. _ As Harry withdrew his fingers and reached for the lube, he pulled Louis flush against his chest, resting his palm against the sweat sheened columns of his overeager throat. Not squeezing, not pressing. Just holding. Warming him up to the sensation of his hand wrapping around somewhere unfamiliar.

Harry coated his cock in lube. Lathering himself up to a drip and rubbing his tip between Louis’ cheeks. Keening loud and brash as Harry teased him to a shudder.

Moans and groans filled the room as Harry eased his way in carefully. He softly tilted Louis’ head to the side to give him an illusion of helplessness. He didn't plan on actually choking Louis. Only keeping his hand in place and allowing sporadic hints of pressure, leaving just as quickly as they came. He only wanted to test the waters. To get Louis off on the thought of having no control, and handing it all over to Harry.

Their hips slotted together. Both sets of knees sinking into the cushion on the mattress and breaths simultaneously caught in their chests. Harry was slightly sensitive from coming not so long ago, but Louis’ heat locked him in, and there was nothing he wanted but  _ more. _

_ “God, _ baby, you feel so amazing.” Harry moved his free hand to work around Louis’ cock, squeezing harshly around his tip, and extremely gentle around his neck. “Missed you.”

By now, Louis had tears caught in the tips of his blackened lashes. Cheeks blushed red and his pink lips bitten raw. Harry cooed softly in his ear, whispering filthy poems and praises, and taking the delicate skin of his earlobe between his teeth.

Harry could sense that he was already fuzzy around the edges. His breathing calm, deep, and low, and the pulse of his heart beneath Harry’s fingers slipping into a more relaxed rate.

“You're doing so well for me. Almost there.”

Harry fucked into Louis’ arse at a rapid  _ and _ tortuously slow pace. Succumbing to the sound of skin slapping against skin and then switching it up without warning, pulling out slowly, slowly, slowly, and pushing back in at an unhurried pace. Louis bit his lips shut. Doing everything he could to keep quiet and follow the simple rules Harry set out for him.

“You ready to come yet?” Harry asked as he picked up the pace of his hand on Louis’ cock. “Ready to come from just me fucking you, alone?”

“Yes,  _ please _ .” Louis whispered through a sob.

“Yes, who?”

“ _ Yes, Daddy.  _ Please let me come—need to  _ so _ bad. Please.”

“Keep begging.” Harry instructed. Dropping his hand from Louis’ cock and applying the lightest amount of pressure to his thumb and forefinger wrapped around his neck. Featherlight as morning kisses. “Tell me why you deserve to come.”

Louis quivered through his response.

“I've been good, Daddy. I swallowed your cock and spread my legs, I did everything you asked of me, p-please,  _ God,  _ please, please, please.”

Harry thrust harder the more he begged. His own merciless orgasm building quickly and threatening to spill into Louis at any moment.

Harry brought him closer. Covering his neck completely and tugging on the lone restraint of his wrist. Louis clenched tighter and tighter, so close himself, and making it hard for Harry not to come.

“ _ Please, Daddy. P-plea—”  _ Louis begged. Voice high and desperate and slowly fading around each word. He was nearly gone for and Harry knew he only had so much time.

“Alright,” Harry thrust, and thrust, and thrust, and finally came into the tight, dripping heat of Louis. “Come for me, angel.” he instructed as he pressed down gently against the sides of Louis’ neck.

Louis choked out a gasp as he came almost immediately. Body going completely boneless as Harry wrapped both arms around him to keep him from tipping over. Harry thrust out the final white ribbons of his orgasm and lent a helping hand to Louis’ leaking cock, wanking off what was left in him and letting him make a mess of Harry’s sheets.

“Breathe, darling, breathe.” Harry spoke clearly in Louis’ ear, pulling back to quickly untie the silk scarf from Louis’ wrist and tossing it over to the side. “God, you did so well, baby. Always so perfect for me,  _ always.  _ My good boy.”

Harry carefully pulled out with a wince and let the come trickle messily from Louis’ arse. He slowly maneuvered him onto his back, laying him propped up against a pillow, and closely hovering above him. With a sprinkle of kisses across his face, Harry took his lover's wrists in his hold, and slowly soothed them with soft circling motions of his thumbs.

“Perfect boy.” Harry kissed sweet names into his skin. “Baby, honey, my sweet boy. So good for me. Love you to pieces. Love you  _ so _ much.”

He moved to kiss the skin of Louis’ wrists, pressing his lips lightly to the red areas and carefully watching Louis from below him. His eyes were full of tears, unfocused, and caught in a dreamy haze. Harry leaned forward and kissed him on his open lips.

“Louis,” he whispered. “Can you look at me for a second? M’right here, baby, just look up.”

Louis struggled to keep his eyes open and focused. Mind lost in a sea of pastel light and fuzzy warmth, flying up above the both of them and not quite ready to come down yet. A high only Harry could give him. A high unlike any other.

Louis’ eyes slowly flickered up his way, fluttering shut gently but fighting their way open again.

“There you are. Let me see those pretty eyes.” Harry took his face between his hands, klissing him softly across his cheeks and keeping it feather light as to not overwhelm him. “My good boy. I’m so proud of you, my love.”

“ _ Harry— _ ” Louis rasped around a whisper through subtly quivering lips. “I need you.”

“I'm right  here.” Harry laid himself on his back and pulled Louis’ entire body on top of him. He cradled him in his arms and soothed his palms against his heated body. “Tell me what you need, it's yours. Water? Tea? Food? Anything, sweetheart.”

“Just hold me.”

Harry did. He held him close to his chest and wrapped his arms around him tightly.  _ Love you _ he he reminded repeatedly,  _ all mine. _

“Never been this high, Harry.” Louis mouthed, still slightly in a trance. “So glad it's you that gets me here. Want you to keep me here forever.”

“Need you back here with me, Lou, come on. Come back, my love.”

Louis curled in on him, burying his flaming face into the crook of Harry’s neck and kissing with only the tip of his tongue. “I'm here, I'm just–I just feel so good. So  _ free _ .”

“Tell me what you need.” Harry gently combed his fingers through the nape of Louis’ hair. Pressing his tender lips where they could reach and keeping a steady, secure, hold on his boy. “We have hours to just lay here. I'll watch you sleep if I need to.”

“I—I haven't slept since February, H. It’s so hard without you there. I only ever think of you—”

“Shh, I'm here, baby. M’right here. Don’t think of any of that right now. Just rest with me.” He didn't let slip the fact that he hasn't been able to sleep either. Especially not while Louis was in a state so delicate. “I'll wake you in ten minutes just to check up on you, yeah? Promise I'm not going anywhere. You're safe, darling.”

“Yeah,” Louis spoke just on the cusp of sleep. Lashes fluttering shut against Harry’s neck and body relaxing quickly against him. “Safe.  _ Always _ safe with you.”

 

***

 

**April 16th, 1983**

 

The murky hour was caught somewhere between evening and dawn just as two lovers were caught between each other. Louis kissed warmth into the parts of Harry’s soul that went cold. Whispered light into his life in places that went dark. Caressed him gently the way the sun made love to the moon. Inhaled the settled dust from Harry’s lungs and placed his unique flavor on Harry’s tongue. Every press of their lips guiding them to where the clouds met the sky. It had been a while since either of them had seen stars like this. 

“I'm so glad you're here, baby.” Harry mumbled between kissing Louis on the nose and bringing his body in closer. Elvis [crooned](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XcQg9OPqfyk) on Harry’s old RCA and the gentle rumble of the rolling bus served as melodious white noise. “Seeing your face right there as I performed was just—I don't know. It made me  _ better _ . It….It kind of felt like we were back at the beginning. Before anyone but you knew my name.”

“You mean back when you were a seventies queen with your long curly hair and your patterned button downs?” Louis smirked under the highway lights as Harry pinched his waist mock offended. Hands curling around the back of Harry’s neck and eyes meeting his across the way. “You never did give up your bell bottoms, did you?”

“Hey,” Harry dragged out mock offended. “They still look bloody cool. Everyone else says they’re fine—“

“I'm only joking, love.” Louis chuckled softly under his breath. “You really sounded _amazing_ up there and you’re only getting better. Everyone in that arena adored you.”

Harry smiled easy and wide like he remembers doing a time before. Tucking Louis’ ever growing hair behind his ear and slipping his hand to cup the edge of his face. “Does that include you, honey?”

“Of course it does.” Louis smile matched his own. Teeth beaming in the dark and the ghost of a dimple appearing. “But I adored you first, and the longest, so I'm the only one that matters in this situation.”

Harry slipped a laugh at his boy's unfamiliar cheek. So much time was spent without it. It almost felt as if Harry was getting to know him all over again.

“I've missed you, Louis.” Harry whispered. Almost afraid to be so vulnerable. “Wish you could stay for a while longer.”

“Well….I, um—I was actually going to ask Jeff, in the morning, if I can stay through Monday.” Louis spoke with a bit of hesitation. “S’just, I know you have a show tomorrow evening, but after that you have Sunday and Monday off, and I just really need to be with my man, yeah? I've missed you terribly.”

Harry wanted to indulge him. Wanted to put their wasted, lonesome, hours to use, and fuck senselessly til sunrise. But his skin itched with wonder. His brain and endless reel of  _ why? why? why? _

“Lou,” Harry breached hesitantly. “If you missed me so terribly, why did you avoid my calls for so long?”

Louis stared at him. Face turned a guilty shade of pale. His teeth fumbled against his lips as he nervously dug his fingers into Harry’s neck. Before Harry could soothe him, Louis was moving to sit up, sheets pooling around his naked waist. He scrubbed his gentle hands over the exhausted lines of his face. Shoulders slumped and body curling in on itself.

Harry lifted himself up as well. Pulling Louis in, up under his arm, and tracing mindless patterns into the curve of his shoulder. The warmth of skin on skin dwindled their shivers. Louis pulled his knees close to his chest, turning his head slightly to meet Harry’s lips with a kiss, and resting his head in the crook of his neck.

“When did you know you loved me?” he asked all soft toned and full of wonder. Avoiding Harry’s question with one of his own. “When was the exact moment you just  _ knew  _ you had finally fallen in love me?”

Harry didn't even have to think about it, really.

“I think I've fallen in love with you more than just once. My love for you goes deeper than both you and I know.” Harry continued to stroke patterns against Louis’ skin, softening at the feel of Louis’ lips pressing against his collarbone, and indulging in the scent of his partner that he missed so much. “But I think the _ first  _ time I knew, was the morning after we met, and I could still taste your goodnight kiss, and I could still feel your little tugs in the curls of my hair. I didn’t know you at all back then, I barely even knew myself and what I wanted, or  _ who _ I wanted, but after spending an entire evening just talking to you, and letting you tease me about my long hair, and letting you kiss me just once on the lips, I knew it was love. I  _ knew  _ I loved you. I thought I had gone mad and for a minute, I had never fallen for someone so quickly, so instantly. I tried to convince myself that you were just a lucid dream or some kind of hallucination, but when you answered my call the next day, I knew it was real. I  _ knew _ you had all of me. I was in love with you before the sun could set again.”

Harry curled his arm around Louis tighter and let his words settle between them. He’s never spoken any of this aloud. Never in all their years together admitted to being in love with Louis when they were mere strangers.

“And what about the time after that?” Louis asked calm and soft spoken.

“After that was a month later.” Harry recalled clearly. “We were smoking in my flat, listening to Santana making his guitar  _ sing _ . You had never heard anything like it, but you loved it, and you asked me to teach you how to play [it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=teRiRdu9J1g). You weren’t very good at it, and neither was I, but it got you in my lap anyway, and we just laughed and laughed, and I remember I had never heard such a beautiful sound. Even in all my years as a musician.”

Louis picked his head up from the crook of Harry’s neck. Bringing up a hand to stroke the minimal scruff of Harry’s cheek, thumb tracing over the top of his lip, and connecting their mouths once more. Soft. Electric. Everything Harry has missed about them.

“And after that?”

The curve of Louis’ lips is all it took for Harry to give in. Their freshly kissed shine and the way they formed a dimple into the moonlit side of his cheek. For a second, Harry could almost forget their blues.

“After that, was the first time I pulled out my lyric journal after abandoning it for so long.” Harry watched Louis’ brow lift in confusion. He pressed a kiss there, watching his eyes glaze over in interest. “I never told you this, but before we met, I only had about a handful of original songs. Tons of ideas on paper, but most of them never made it past there. I just wasn't inspired. I was kinda tired of writing shit songs about heartbreak, and feeling lost and unsure in an unaccepting world, so most of ‘78 I stuck to performing the same covers, in the same pubs. I didn't actually write anything for most of that year. And then you came along.”

Louis’ lashes fluttered as he turned a bashful shade of red. Harry cuddled him in close. Pulling his legs up over his lap and gently caressing over the violet skin of his knees.

“You came along at just the right time, and became my light, my world, my motivation and inspiration. I would find myself coming up with shitty little poems about your smile, or the way you looked under supermarket lights. They never did you any justice, but before I knew it, I was pulling out my journal for the first time in so long, and I was writing a song about you, and I was singing those words written about you, and I couldn't stop myself after that. Every word you spoke was something I could turn into a line, every sound you made was a harmony I could use. I realized you were the song I couldn't stop singing, and I fell in love with you all over again.”

Louis went silent. Looking back at Harry with eyes of awe and threading his admiring fingers through the short strands of Harry’s hair, still slightly warm from the stage lights. Harry wanted to kiss him. Wanted to roll over on top of him and just kiss his lips to life. Louis seemed content to stare, however. Hints of guilt clouding over the light of his eyes.

“So, you always knew then.” Louis whispered in the space between them. Curling his fingers into Harry’s roots and watching the lick of his lips. “If you knew for so long, why didn't you tell me?”

“Timing, I guess.” Harry shrugged, rubbing the legs in his lap, and soothing the bare skin of Louis’ back. “It wouldn't have been right had I told you I loved you after the first night we shared. You would have been running for the hills before I could admit it to you.”

Louis nodded his head quietly. Seemingly taking his words into consideration and analyzing them to himself.

“We always got our timing right, didn't we?” Louis asked in a gentle tone. “We've always been so in tune with each other.”

Harry couldn’t help but consider the last two months. Couldn't help but relive every single night he spent aching for Louis’ or at the very least the sound of his voice. But there was something about the timing of Louis’ reappearance, and how he came back just as it felt like they were both on the brink of something terrible.

“For the most part, yeah.” Harry quietly agreed. “We’re not always perfect, but I think it’s written we’ll always find each other in the end.”

Louis looked up at Harry with a downward curl to his lip. His head nodding slightly and his blue eyes gone misty. The clench of his fists in Harry’s hair was nearly as painful as watching his pride slip from his face. He was crumbling and Harry couldn't imagine why.

“We’re incredibly lucky, aren't we?” Louis’s voice cracked midway.

Harry held him close. Gripping handfuls of his skin and pressing his mouth to his temple. His body shook in Harry’s arms. Lines of his shoulders dropping and hands coming to cover his face. Harry knew better than to pry. Knew that Louis’ head was spinning and he'd form the right words when he was ready.

“I'm the luckiest man alive,” Harry whispered as the bus rocked them gently. “Every second with you is better than the last and we’re still so strong and in love—”

“I know, babe, I know.  _ God _ .”

Louis sighed, a bit frustrated. Pulling out of Harry’s hold and wiping his eyes with the back of his wrists. He didn't speak for a minute, he didn't move his hands from his tear swollen face, and Harry knew to give him a minute. Only caressing a careful hand to the delicate line of his back.

“I took a weekend trip up to San Francisco after I left you in New York.” Louis spoke carefully. Voice slightly nasally from being choked up. “You didn't call or write me for a week, and I guess Fionn could tell there was something bothering me, so, he invited me out there just to take my mind off of things for a weekend. He bought us two bus tickets, and packed us a few bags, and he said we’d meet some of his friends up there.”

Harry’s hand slipped from the silky skin of Louis’ back. Moving to squeeze at Louis’ thigh and lacing instinctively when Louis threaded his fingers through his own. Their thumbs danced across each other’s knuckles delicately. Feather light and encouraging and everything they both needed.

“San Francisco really is the freedom land everyone describes it to be.” Louis said with a hint of a smile as he looked into Harry’s eyes. “Hills as far as the eye could see, rainbows flying up above the corner of Castro and 17th, men in tight trousers, holding hands, cuddling and kissing, and being openly affectionate in the sunlight. It was  _ moving _ , really. Seeing couples that looked like you and me, being able to touch each other, without having to look over their shoulders for watchful eyes. It gave me hope for our future. I thought that, maybe if the world saw how our community existed, just like this, we wouldn’t have to hide so often.”

Louis paused for a moment. Blankly staring at the space in front of him, biting his lips, and taking time to catch his breath. Harry figured the topic was overwhelming for him. He was trying to take it all in himself.

“We met Fionn’s friends at a bar called Twin Peaks. S’nothing like the gay bars in London or LA. This place was lit up in rainbow lights and had massive windows where anyone could look in, and see what was going on inside. Fionn’s friend Niall got us in. He was the musical act for the evening and his partner, Liam, was a bartender. They were a sweet pair, and all of them were friends from uni back in Manchester.”

“Anyway, we were all pretty pissed and having a good time, and Niall says to Fionn,  _ ‘let's go upstairs we have a surprise for you’ _ . They shared a cramped little flat above the bar, it was all very typical San Francisco with a view of the city and fairy lights to match. After we were shown our beds for the night, they took us to this back room, and sleeping there was a man named Nick.”

The rolling wheels of the bus jostled Louis closer into Harry’s arms. Needle of the RCA skipping across the record and wrapping them in soft static.

“Turns out Nick and Fionn have been best friends for ages. Fionn has always had a thing for Nick and Nick has always felt the same. They just never got their timing right. Or never really told each other how they felt. It was always either, one of them was single and the other was in a relationship, or one of them had just moved to town and the other was leaving. It just never worked out between the two of them.”

“S’that why you asked me when I knew?” Harry whispered.

“Yeah,” Louis nodded. “And although that's the first time you’ve ever told me, I feel like—I always knew we had it right from, hello.”

Harry knew the feeling. Was  _ thankful  _ for the feeling. He brought Louis’ knuckles up to his lips. Kissing every rise and slope of his fist as Louis choked back a new wave of emotion.

“We’re so privileged to have our health as well as each other, Harry. San Francisco has been plagued with death and illness and nobody is working to put a stop to it. So many young lads relocate there to be out, and be part of a community that isn't ashamed of the love they make, and now they're simply being punished for it, spending their final days in a hospital bed with no cure, and only their partner by their side if they're lucky enough.”

Harry swallowed thick and somewhat guilty. He had an idea of what was going on but was unaware of just how bad it had gotten.

“When we met Nick he was so thin and so colourless, he was practically one with his bed sheets. As soon as Fionn walked in the room, everyone went still, and Nick began to weep at his presence. He didn't say this then, but he later told me, he felt like he could die right there. That he at least got to see his best friend and his only love still beaming with health and joy when he saw him.

“Most of my weekends were spent in that bedroom. Nick was getting sicker and sicker and Fionn wasn't in any position to travel all that way alone. Every weekend was the same fight. Fionn begged him to seek treatment, or to at least get properly diagnosed, but like plenty of other men out there, the slightest little bump or cough could lead them to a death sentence, and a lot of them just choose to accept that. There's no cure for AIDS and most hospitals wouldn't even evaluate men with the symptoms due to stigmas, and not wanting to be branded as a gay friendly hospital. It’s just a cruel reality a lot of sexually active lads have to face, and Nick assumed himself to be one of them.”

Harry choked down his emotions hard and painful. Pressing a soft line of kisses against Louis’ shuddering shoulder and quietly reminding him to breathe. It was heartbreaking.

“It was difficult to balance my career finally starting to take off and wanting to be there for Nick and Fionn, and Niall and Liam, but as someone who has their health, and has an equally healthy partner, I didn't have a choice. I had to do what I could for them. The night you and I had an argument was the same night Fionn had somehow gotten through to Nick, and I paid for him and the other lads to fly into LA so Nick could seek treatment.”

“It turned out, Nick only had pneumonia. Obviously, it was a more severe case, but he ended up alright. It was enough to scare him back home though. Not even a week later he was packed up and on his way back to Manchester to live with his family. Fionn didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye with all the bloody filming we’ve been doing. It’s just been a bit hard, you know? I’ve been shouldering a lot of guilt.”

“Why is that, darling?” Harry asked with gentle strokes of his thumb and careful lips. “What do you have to be guilty for?” Louis shrugged his shoulders, his eyes a heavy shade of blue. Harry brought him in close under the weight of his arm, feeling the warmth of his uneven breath, and how his pulse thumped against his pale neck.

“We have it all,” Louis voiced with a slight bitterness. “You and I have the whole world at our fingertips. If I miss you, I know where to find you, if I need you, I know how to reach you. On a whim, I can fly anywhere in the world just to be with you, and I know I’ll be taken care of because of everyone that works for you. That knowledge always made our issues feel so small in comparison to Fionn’s, or others like him, that can do nothing other than watch their loved ones wither away. And every time I felt myself so much as miss you, the guilt whispered,  _ at least I have you. _ ”

Harry frowned half pained as he pressed his lips to the crown of Louis’ head. It was all quite a lot to take in. Harry was kept in the dark and shut out for months, resulting in ignorance, numbness, and attempts at convincing himself love wasn’t meant for the road.

“S’that why you went so long without speaking to me?” Harry asked against the silk of his hair. “You thought it’d ease some of that guilt?”

“Yeah,” Louis cleared his throat and trembled in Harry’s hold. Cringing and curling in on himself, as if the truth did nothing but hurt him, “And I realised how wrong and unfair that was a bit too late, and that’s how I ended up here. And...I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. I know I should always be able to turn to you in times like that, but I just — I didn’t — “

“Don’t worry about it now, babe.” Harry pulled their embrace apart and softly held Louis by the back of the neck. Eyes shining dull in the darkness and light drained from his face. “That’s a tough situation to handle on your own. I get it. Just  _ please _ know I’ll be there for you no matter the situation or the distance, yeah?”

Louis sniffled meek and small, “Yeah.”

“I  _ want _ to hear about these things, I  _ want _ to help you through them, I  _ want  _ to be the soothing voice you can’t wait to hear at the end of your day. I’ll help calm your soul, Louis. Even if it’s only for a minute from a wonky payphone in the middle of nowhere. I want to do that for you. I want it all with you. Just meet me halfway and I’ll give it to you.”

Louis’ lips trembled into something of a smile before he gracelessly pressed forward against Harry’s lips. Kissing him long. Kissing him hard. Kissing him just as desperately as the first time their keening mouths ever met. Harry felt Louis’ urgent  _ need _ with every slick slip of their lips. Their kiss familiar like a flowers in the spring.

Louis whimpered beneath the weight of Harry’s mouth. “I missed you,” he panted. “I missed every bit of you.”

“I missed you too, baby,” Harry admitted through a hardened kiss. “M’so glad we have each other and have our health. I’ll never take for granted everything we have. Never again.”

“Me either,” Louis whimpered, slightly saddened, “Never want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” Harry promised through kissing lips. “I‘d find you in any lifetime.”

Louis pulled away to allow their eyes to meet. Face thinly veiled in composure and chest rising in time with his heartbeat. He looked so good with red rimmed eyes and dark pink blotches on his cheeks. Filmmakers of Hollywood would love him. Artists and photographers alike would kneel to the ground by his feet. A face like a lily, so open and unique, and graced with the figures of beauty. A face that Harry would know even in his deepest sleep.

“The thought of that is so peaceful,” Louis uttered low and gentle. “I haven’t felt peace for a while but hearing you say that helps more than you know.”

“Yeah? See what you’ve been missing?” Harry joked and cradled a snickering Louis in his hold. Pulling him back down against bed and leaving an obnoxious kiss to his forehead. “I’m always here to help, sweetheart. I want to give you whatever you need.”

“I  _ need _ sleep,” Louis admitted around a drawn out yawn. “My body is knackered but I don’t want to stop talking with you. It feels so nice to finally open up and I kind of don’t want to lose my time with you to sleep.”

“Then, we’ll sleep tomorrow.” Harry propped himself above Louis, tracing hearts around his love bitten skin, and watching the length of him shiver. “Until then, tell me everything.”

“Alright,” Louis smiled. Seemingly the first genuine crack of one since he arrived. “Where would you like me to begin?”

***


	4. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Early Update since I'll be out this weekend. Hope you enjoy.  
> Warning for homophobia.

**June 2nd, 1983**

 

The evening sun beamed far and bright before it set in time for the moon. Golden shimmering rays caressed the Tropic of Cancer and painted the sky coral and midnight blue. Pink petals from the plumeria bush dotted Harry’s salty skin as he plucked a nostalgic [tune](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oH-WrEfB32Q) to the mellow current of the waves. The sound of his ukulele matched the mellow tone of his mood.  

Hawaii was new to him but the beach felt familiar. The sand beneath his feet and the sweat at his temples all stuck to his skin the same. Harbor lights lit up the darkening sea with identical shades of neon green, paradisiacal views and the ocean breeze kissed at his cheeks just as promising as the coast of California, the silence next to him was just as comforting as every time Louis drifted off by his side.

Harry wished for rainbow. Just for a bit of comfort on the lonely side of paradise. He wished for just a glimpse of colour in a land so far away from home and so far behind in time. Colour was something he hasn’t seen too much of, even as the days grew longer, and the sun shined brighter. For once, there was no bus or connecting highways to trap him inside without an idea of what the earth looked like. Just four days of set times and an outdoor stage, and the fleeting hope of catching that view.

The sound of waves and his music drowned out the approaching footsteps behind him. Harry sat still and unsuspecting. His eyes burned from the beams of the sun and his skin pricked from the wind and the gritty sand.

“Harry!” Jeff called from over his shoulder, voice as relaxed as Harry has ever heard. “Get up. I have something for you.”

Harry hardly had time to look up before a package was dropped into his lap from above. Jeff’s silhouette now blocking out the setting sun as he nicked the ukulele from Harry’s hold and strummed a chord offputtingly. Just as irritating as he was mellow. A bit _too_ pleased with himself.

“What’s this?” Harry asked unamused and cringing harshly from the hissing sound of the instrument.

“Fuck if I know,” Jeff annoyingly smirked around a loose shrug. “It’s from Louis, though.”

“What?” Harry juggled the small package around until the scrawl of his address was visible. “How did he—how’d he get it here? How did he know where to send it?”

“We’ve been in touch,” Jeff wiggled his brows as if he was in on something Harry wasn’t. “I’d open that in the privacy of your own room, if I were you.”

“Fuck _off_ , what’s in here?” Harry shook the package around in his hold hearing only a slight rattle. “And why are you in touch with my boy without my knowledge? Trying to pull, are you?”

Harry looked up at him through squinted eyes, pushing up off his bum, and standing to his full height. Not completely towering over him, but tall and square enough to induce a bit of fear.

“No, what? I mean, Louis is an attractive guy and all, but I wouldn’t do that—I’m not—I’m not like... _that._ I’m not interested in him in _that_ way— “

“Fuck sake, I’m only joking,” Harry laughed as Jeff visibly sweat under his collar. “You’re not exactly Louis’ type anyway. I’m not too worried.”

“Fuck you, Louis would be so lucky,” Jeff retorted with another smirk and unrelentingly offkey strums of the ukulele. Perhaps he was a bit pissed. There was enough coconut rum on this island, it wasn’t too far of a stretch. “Why isn’t he here anyway? Couldn’t make it out, or what?”

“No,” Harry sighed hoping to avoid the topic. “He’s um...he’s in New York, actually. He’s doing a bit of filming out there.”

“Oh,” Jeff’s brows raised only slightly. “That sounds...exciting?”

“Yeah. I’m sure,” Harry agreed before turning on his heel to head back towards his room. “M’gonna go open this now so—”

“You don’t seem too thrilled about it,” Jeff ignored him and spoke through a slight slur. “Is everything alright? I thought you two were doing okay? You were fine just last week, what happened?”

“Nothing, nothing, we’re perfect,” Harry curled his hands tightly around the edges of the package. “I just….I don’t know. I miss him. I’m just being selfish s’all.”

“Okay, well, I think what’s inside there might help. Maybe just a little. I don’t know. I could be wrong. I don’t actually remember right now.”

Definitely pissed.

“Alright, I trust you,” Harry tut as he shuffled his way through the sand. “Please give me peace until tomorrow, yeah? I’ll even let you keep the ukulele.”

Harry tried not to giggle at the sound of Jeff’s American mouth spouting a _fuck yeah_ , but failed. It was almost as if a switch inside of him flipped. Turning him giddy. Perhaps a bit excited. He couldn’t quite place it but he was anxious to get back into the solitude of his room.

Above all, he was curious to see what Louis could have possibly sent his way. The box was small, but Louis’ mind was special. Anything inside would give Harry’s bones the warmth they miss without him. He couldn’t wait to see it. He couldn’t wait to see him.

 

\--

 

Bound by the sizzling hum of the telephone wire, Harry breathed evenly through deep huffs of pleasure, clenching a thin Polaroid in one hand, and edging his cock with the other. The silky sheets tangled between his restless legs as he laid impatient and aroused, awaiting the sleep-warm answer of his boy. Staring into the blue of his sinful bedroom eyes and envying the soft bite of his cherry lips was _too_ much. He selfishly needed Louis in another form.

“ _Hello_?” Louis answered low and tired. The five hour time difference clearly coming into play.

“You’re cruel,” Harry hissed as he gives himself a harsh tug. “It’s _criminal_ the things you do to me.”

“Who’s this?” Louis groaned out.

“S’me, baby. Wake up.”

“Daddy?” Louis questioned soft and groggy, seemingly still wiping the sleep from his mouth. “How did—how did you get the number to my room? Will this call show up on my bill—”

“Quiet, Love, I’ve taken care of it.” Harry untangled himself from the sheets to sit up properly in bed. “I think we need to talk about this care package you sent me, yeah?”

Louis giggled quietly as his own sheets rustled through the line. “ _No_.”

“No?” Harry asked affronted, giving himself another tug at the sweet sound of Louis’ brattiness, and the numerous polaroids spread out next to him. “You know I don’t like to ask more than once, sweetheart.”

“ _Sweetheart_ ,” Louis imitated. “You _know_ I don’t like having my sleep interrupted.”

Harry hummed out a laugh that sat deep in his chest. The sound of it low and unamused, and perfectly masking just how turned on they _both_ knew he was.

“Someone’s been naughty,” Harry tsked as Louis giggled under his breath. “First you send me dozens of dirty polaroids, and now you’re disobeying me?”

“Mmm, guess you’ll just have to punish me,” Louis sighed light and exaggerated, likely stretching out his limbs, but the sound got Harry off no less. “Did you like them, daddy? Took ‘em on your camera and everything.”

“Of course, baby. They’re stunning.” Harry gathered a few in the palm of his free hand, mouth practically watering at something that should be obscene, but was rather soft in a sensual way. “Some of these, Louis….. _fuck._ How did you even take them?”

“Set the self timer and spread my legs,” Louis answered without hesitation. “Something about it felt _so_ good, too. Just _knowing_ I was posing for you and that you would look at those photos whenever you miss me, it got me all riled up. It was hard to stop, s’why there’s so many.”

“I don’t mind,” Harry smirked as he moved his hands to card through the mass of them. “M’all riled up myself just looking at them. That’s why I called. Want you to know how pleased I am. Want you to hear me get off on these.”

“Yeah?” Louis asked somewhat shy and Harry could do nothing other than agree. “Which is your favourite then?”

“S’impossible to pick a favourite, babe, but I’m really drawn to this one,” Harry shuffled through the stacks to find it, almost knowing which one it was just by the feel of it. “You belong in a centerfold.”

“Which is it, Daddy?”

Louis’ gentle voice knocked Harry back against the warmth of his sheets. He cradled the telephone between his shoulder and ear, and held the photograph up against the last of the dying sunlight. It perfectly haloed around it. Painting Harry’s near perfect image of heaven.

“You're lying on your side with your pretty head propped up against your hand, and you’re wearing that white satin robe I like, left open, and hitched up against your thigh. It’s not as revealing as the others, it’s actually quite modest, but your expression is fucking lust personified. The _deadliest_ type.”

The crisp swish of sheets against the telephone mic blended seamlessly with Louis’ hum of gratification. Line gone silent for only a moment, Harry let his free hand wander across his torso, imagining the slick press of Louis’ lips.

“I could see myself in the mirror while I was taking that one. I was watching my hand as I raised my dressing gown higher and higher, and I imagined your breath on my neck and the way your hips fit perfectly behind mine,” Louis sighed and seemingly squirmed around in the sheets going by the crackle through the line. “I thought about your hands and lips, and how good I taste on your tongue.”

Harry let his eyes roll back at the sound of his words, clenching his jaw, and taking a calming breath to cool himself down. He gripped the base of his cock and conjured up the same images, recalling every last taste, sound, and feel.

“Did that get you hard, baby? Thinking of me?” Harry asked desperately yet masked in a tone quite deep. “Did your body tremble at the thought of my hands touching you? Did you touch yourself too?”

“Thinking of you always gets me hard, but I _never_ touch without you, you told me not to.”

The sound of that was promising. Something Harry could have easily glazed over. But he knew better than that. He _knew_ just how naughty Louis could be.

“Did you rut against the sheets?” Harry smirked at the vision of it. “You did, didn’t you, sweetheart? You slipped off your robe and balled up your fists to resist yourself, but you _couldn’t_ , could you?”

“ _No_ ,“ Louis whined high and guilty. “I mean, _no_ I didn’t. I—I—“

“Don’t lie to me,” Harry warned. “What are you wearing right now, darling?”

“Um, just—just one of your old shirts and pants s’all.”

“One of mine? S’that mean you miss me, baby?”

“I always miss you.” Louis admitted through the line.

Harry gave himself a tug and a twist, and edged himself right on the cusp of coming in his hand. The gentle reassurance and familiar rasp of Louis’ words had him ready and willing, but Harry didn’t want this alone.

“ _God_ , Lou,” Harry winced as he pulled the pressure off his aching cock and caught his breath in time. “Need you to get me off, yeah? Need you to touch yourself too.”

“Okay,” Louis whispered as shuffling crackled it’s way through the line. “Touch myself where, _Daddy_?”

Fuck. Harry nearly let himself succumb to the pleasure of his power resting on the tip of Louis’ tongue. Both lonesome in unfamiliar beds tonight yet falling into their favourite roles.

“Get yourself off as if it were me,” Harry instructed. “Touch every inch of your perfect skin, play with your sensitive little nipples, then take yourself in your hand, and give yourself the same attention I would.”

“Mmm, s’never as good on my own as it is with you.” Louis moaned.

“Why’s that, sweetheart?”

“ _Because,_ ” Louis whined on the arousing side of pathetic. “I can’t feel your lips or the weight of your body on top of mine. There’s no trail of love bites. No squeezing hands. S’just me going through the motions, babe.”

“Alright,” Harry considered, _knowing_ Louis only needed a bit of direction and a bit of his own control taken away from him. “Get your hand up under my shirt and caress yourself, darling.”

“What? Wait, Da—“

“Do it,” Harry insisted. “Think of me as you drag your fingertips across your skin. Feel everything _I_ adore about you.”

Louis sighed softly. Becoming wordless and quiet as he followed through with Harry’s direction. The hum of the wire and his murmured pleasure brought Harry back down. Touching the length of himself just as tenderly as he imagined Louis would.

“Suck on your pretty fingers,” Harry told him. “Get them nice and wet and tease yourself for a bit.”

“ _Mmm,”_ Louis moaned. Seemingly more turned on to this than just a moment ago.

“Take your time, darling. Let yourself feel how good it is when I have my own shoved against the velvet of your tongue.”

Harry cringed at the use of his own words but bit his lips at the sound of Louis’ response. Even with his mouth stuffed full of his fingers, he made room for a provocative moan. Low, drawn out, and needy. Just on the verge of satisfied. Harry allowed himself the pressure of his thumb against the slit of his cock. Swiping across harder each time Louis let out a cry.

“Fuck, I miss how you sound,” Harry confessed as his body trembled at his touch. “I could come just by listening to you whimper.”

“Mmm,” Louis moaned as the slick sound of his fingers leaving his mouth traveled through the line. “Yeah, Daddy?”

 _Fuck_.

“Yeah, baby, _shit_.” Harry breathed heavily as he began to stroke himself again. “Let me hear how good you make yourself feel with your wet fingers around your nipples.”

“Oka—,” Louis half whispered before trailing off into a choppy whimper. “Fuck, _Daddy_ . Feels — _God—_ feels so nice.”

“Pinch them,” Harry ordered. “Make it hurt like the sting of my teeth when I bite you.”

Louis whined beneath the indulgence of pain and cursed filthily around Harry’s name. There was something so _maddeningly_ enticing about the way Louis sounded muffled by the telephone wire. Something so infuriatingly hot about the two of them getting each other off without ever touching or seeing one another. Something about it being over the phone as well. It was bloody overwhelming. Harry was lost in the sensation of sound and his own imagination. Picturing Louis wincing and curling in on himself through his hardness and the pain.

“Hurts,” Louis cried out. “Make it better. _Please._ ”

“Be gentle, now,” Harry drawled in his most calming tone. “Rub yourself slowly and featherlight. Imagine my lips kissing all the soreness away, yeah? Be as careful as I would with you, my love.”

Harry wrapped his hand fully around his length at the blissed out sound of Louis’ breath. Precome bubbling over just from hearing his boy wither from a bit of nipple play. He twisted his fist slowly and tensed down to the tip of his toes.

“Feel better, baby?” Harry asked as the telephone dug into the muscle of his shoulder.

“Yeah, s-so good.”

“Are y’hard yet?”

“Yeah,” Louis whimpered. “Daddy, let me touch.”

Harry clenched his fist around his leaking cock. Groaning at Louis’ desperation induced behavior. He always did get a bit lippy when he wanted to come.

“Ask correctly, sweetheart.”

“ _Pleeease,_ ” Louis dragged to the edge of his needy lips. “M’cock is aching _,_ Daddy. Can I _please_ touch?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry whimpered as his pleasure nearly consumed him. “Yes, darling—fuck. Touch yourself for me.”

The static of the line wrapped seamlessly around their huffs and whispered curses. The sounds of their skin tugging, and the filthy visuals of the other side of the line had Harry panting and shivering, clenching his eyes and fist, and steadily losing the will to hold on.

“Miss your hands,” Louis whined. “They're always so warm and careful, and rough when I _need_ it.”

“You n-need it now, baby?” Harry held his composure as best he could. “Tighten your grip. Play with your arse a bit, yeah? Just like I would.”

“ _Ohh_ —feels—“ Louis’ one indulgence cut him short. Breathing, moaning, and quickening the pace on his dick. “So good, Daddy. _So_ —“

“Touch your hole,” Harry instructed. “Let me hear how good you make yourself feel.”

Louis groaned a filthy curse as Harry lost himself in the sound. He moaned around the tightening of his cock and the soft whines from the other side of the line.

“ _Oh, Daddy,”_

Harry got off on Louis’ gentle tone and filthy words. Come landing up under his navel and spilling over the edges of his hand. He was a mess. A bloody satisfied one. Moaning as he finished himself off to the image of Louis caressing his own fluttering hole.

“Fuck, baby—so good for me. Thank you,” Harry stuttered out as he slowly came back down to earth. “ _God,_ you always do just as Daddy says, huh?”

“I love to please you— _ahh_ ,” Louis whimpered. “Gets me off every time.”

“Yeah?” Harry implored as if he wasn’t already aware. “Tell me how you’d please me right now.”

“I’d lick you clean,” Louis said. “I’d suck you off just the way you like, I’d clean your fingers with the tip of my tongue, I’d get a bit greedy with it, but only to show you how good I am.”  

Harry’s spent cock gave a feeble twitch as he envisioned it clearly.

“Always so greedy,” he huffed under a smirk. “Can never get enough, can you?”

“ _Mmm,_ never of you,” Louis whispered; pleasure resting on his tongue. “Miss you, Daddy.”

“I miss you too, baby.” Harry mumbled. “Go on. Make yourself come for me.”

It wasn’t fair how quickly he moved on. It wasn’t fair how quickly he strayed from play to the depths of loneliness. Here Louis was, giving his all to him in the dead of his night, and Harry was ruined by only the sound of that phrase. _Miss you_.

Harry encouraged him, but his heart wasn’t in it. The _‘fuck yeah_ ’s and the _‘good boy’_ s were chants to get him off, and part of his responsibility, but were more than anything distractions. Harry couldn’t think about missing Louis. Harry couldn’t lead on that he was weak and exhausted, and wounded in paradise. He was meant to be stronger and not so bloody codependent. So he masked it.

“You’re perfect.” Harry croaked between the withered pants of Louis’ pleasure. “Let’s sleep now, yes? Stay on the line, but fall asleep for me.”

“Um, o-okay,” Louis breathed in deep, catching his breath the best he could. “Harry?”

“Yes, Love?”

“I, um, _fuck_ —I can’t really think, or breathe right now, but...” the line crackled under the sound of Louis tossing and turning, and settling in for the night. “I love you and I’m proud of you….We’re right where we’re supposed to be.”

Harry meant to speak up, meant to respond with a _love you too,_ or a _thank you._ Something along those lines.  _Anything._ But instead, he closed himself off. Sat motionless, silent, and fucking soiled as Louis’ last few words rang deafeningly in his ears. Where they’re _supposed_ to be. Opposite ends of the states. Connected by a measly telephone wire. Both on their way to sleep, one too early, and one too late.

The mood edged from titillated to tense. Blissful to awkward. A rare form of silence that wasn’t comfortable between them and was too painful to confront. At least for Harry, anyway.

It was evident Louis bit his tongue against it until his breathing evened out. The muffled sound of it bringing Harry a sense of peace where he was finally able to relax, unclench his fists, and remove himself from his untroubled facade. He let himself crumble back into the bed sheets. Let himself get tangled up comfortably in the polaroids and wire that held Louis on the other side.

He missed him quite terribly. But there was no use in repeating it.

 

***

 

**June 9th, 1983**

 

Eyes swollen and skin pale, the 4 am hour showed no mercy to Harry or his exhaustion. After a week of shows in leather and sunlight, constant nerves and pumping adrenaline, endless rowes with sleep and the sand in his bedsheets, his body had gone stiff and lifeless. Although he felt himself being shaken awake, he couldn’t move, see, or speak. His muscles were sore, his eyes were clouded by sleep, and his voice was nearly shot from wearing it down night after night.

“Harry,” Jeff whispered half urgent half sympathetic. “I let you sleep for as long as possible, man. We can’t miss this flight.”

Harry looked over at the bedside clock, cringing at the brightness of the unyielding numbers, and still making no effort to move at all. Bones pinned to the mattress, he allowed Jeff to continue his shaking.

“I’m sorry, H. You can sleep on the ride to the airport but I need you awake to prevent jet lag. Come on.”

“No,” Harry mouthed as a result from his useless voice.

“Yeah, come on—“

“NO,” Harry seethed as he cleared the dust from his lungs. “M’not getting on another bloody aeroplane.”

“Harry, this is only the second one of the tour, don’t be a brat.”

“I’m _fucking_ exhausted,” Harry uttered through clenched teeth. “You puppet me around for seven days, without a break in between, and then force me on another flight to do it all again. I physically cannot do it. I’m not moving.”

“H, the flight is about twenty hours of sitting and you get the next day off—“

“No, no, _no_ ,” Harry panicked as he felt bile rise up in his throat. “I can’t be fucking trapped for twenty hours. I can’t even breathe with my feet planted firmly on the ground, please, _please,_ Jeff. Don’t force me on that flight _._ ”

“Harry, you need to relax,” Jeff stooped to his bedside. “You’re only wearing yourself out more—”

“Jeff, I can’t—I can’t be trapped on a twenty hour flight. I don’t want to. _Please_ –“

“GET UP!” Jeff yelled as he shook Harry’s frigid body. “We have to get on that flight there’s no other way off the island! Come on!”

“I can’t brea—I can’t” Harry panted as his chest caved in. “JEFF! _Jeff—“_

Vision gone black, and senses amplified, Harry felt every last ache in his body. The pain wedged between his ribs, his ankles swelling at the bone, every tendon, ligament, and joint pulling taut, ready to snap. Harry’s chest burned with acidity as his eyes clenched against it. His breathing became wheezing as his cheeks flared up in irritation. It all happened so fast there was no way he could see it coming.

_Harry! Harry!_

Jeff’s voice was somewhere muddled beside him as Harry kicked himself free from the knots of his sheets. He stumbled from the bed and motioned desperately for his carry on, knees giving out as he braced himself against the nearest wall. The fire in his lungs escalated and his ears began to blare a piercing sound that penetrated his ear drums and drained his body numb.

Harry stumbled over and dropped to his knees besides Jeff’s manic digging, nearly toppling over the both of them. With his last bit of energy, Harry shoved Jeff’s hands free, slipping his inhaler from the bag’s side pocket, and pumping the medicine into his mouth. His veins sizzled as he struggled to hold it all in as he counted down from ten.

“Fucking breathe, Harry, breathe!” Jeff cursed in a panic. “Fuck, what do I do? What do you need— _shit!_ Should I call Louis—“

“ _NO_ ,” Harry choked, leading him on to a rigorous coughing fit. His chest was in flames and his throat was constricted, but he forced out his words as best he could. “Don’t fucking worry him with this!”

“Then what do I—“

“Just give me a minute!”

Harry heaved suffocating and dry. Lungs engulfed in heat and chest strained painfully tight, he pumped another dose of medicine into his mouth; holding it all in and fighting against another coughing fit. He hasn’t had an attack like this in ages. One where his knuckles went black and blue and his abdomen clenched in on itself. Everything hurt. His body was drenched in pain.

Harry couldn’t fathom another fifteen hours of suffering as a result of this. Just considering it sent his bloody anxiety flaring. He raised his arms above his head and breathed in deeper and deeper, calming himself and taming the storm within him. All he could think about was the pain. Feeling it chip away as he exhaled and feeling it increase as he inhaled.

“Harry, I need you to calm down, just—I don’t know—go sit on the bed—think of Louis, or something.”

“ _God—“_ Harry choked. “Fuck you, Jeff. M’not my relationship—“ he coughed again, and again. “I can survive away from him.”

“Clearly fucking not,” Jeff snapped as Harry heaved around a death glare. “Shit, I’m just—I’m trying to help! Louis always seems to put you at ease.”

“I’m fine!” Harry put on a hard face as his limbs shook whilst attempting to stand. “Take my shit and find me a sleep aid. M’not flying to Europe without it.”

“Harry you’re not fine, and you’ll be even more exhausted and dehydrated if you sleep the entire twenty hours. I’m sorry, I can’t let you.” Jeff sighed, clearly frustrated.

Harry knew he could fight him on it. Knew he could probably get his way if he _really_ wanted to. But he was physically and mentally taxed and was drained of every last bit of energy. So he let the quiet settle just as another round of dust settled into in his lungs.

Jeff irritatedly made a grab for Harry’s different cases of luggage, hauling them behind him, and making his way towards the door.

“I don’t know, man. Maybe you can use all that time to reflect on whatever war is waging inside of you. Or fucking ignore it, I don’t give a shit. Just—take a minute to get yourself together, and once I get back we’re leaving, you understand? Don’t fucking die while I’m gone.”

The door of Harry’s room clicked open and slammed just as quickly as followed. His pale, clammed up skin prickled at the severity of the sound as he clenched his eyes around every last throbbing pain. The mattress reeled him in one last time, cradling him carefully, and allowing him to rest for just a moment longer. Breathing was a bit easier from this position. Knees brought up to his chest and head resting against the backboard.

Harry didn’t allow himself to think or glance over at the bedside table. He knew if he did, his mind would go straight to Louis and he would only reach out for the telephone, _knowing_ there was a chance he would answer.

 _Knowing_ there was a chance he could make all of this go away.

No _._ Harry refused to live such a life. Refused to be as unfairly dependent as he knew he was being. He could get through this on his own. He _could._

 

\--

 

Harry couldn’t even sleep if he wanted to. The jet was too narrow, the sun beamed in from every which way, and his lingering anxiety kept him up on the edge. Worried glances from his band mates were cast in his direction but no one had approached him yet. All sitting a safe distance away from each other, and himself, and Jeff.

The flight was somewhere around hour twelve of twenty, every layer of clouds was starting to blend the same. For his melancholy mood, the weather surely didn’t match. Harry lived for the moment they reached a time zone a little less lit up. A sky full of grey or right on the cusp of night—

“Hey,” Sarah plopped down in the leather seat beside him. “Mind some company?”

Harry didn’t respond, but budged over to make room anyway. He paid no mind to the shuffling and clicking sounds beside him, eyes still drawn to the clouds before him.

“You feeling any better?” She asked slightly distracted.

“Mm, not really,” Harry turned to address her. “Sarah—what the fuck is that?”

“S’a joint, _mate_ ,” she lit the end of the spliff and inhaled deep, holding her pull inside her lungs. “Want a hit?”

“How did you get this on the bloody aeroplane?” Harry asked fully taken aback by the sight beside him.

“S’not mine,” she took a moment to exhale and cough. “Jeff and Adam always find a way to smuggle it in. I just happen to indulge as well.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Harry cursed in utter disbelief. “I’m on tour with a bunch of bloody burn outs.”

Sarah took another drag before handing it over, clearly unaffected by Harry’s dig. He plucked the spliff from between her fingers and contemplated.

Maybe it would mellow him out. Maybe it would burn like ash and send him into another coughing fit. Maybe it would do fuck all but make him hungry. He had eight hours to kill either way, might as well give it a go.

“I’ve been a bit worried about you,” she voiced lowly as she exhaled. “All of us actually. The first Hawaiian show, we all agreed something was off, but after that last show - and this morning - it’s sort of glaring.”

“Yeah?” Harry inquired before taking a drag. A _long_ one. “How so?”

“Well, for one, nobody was aware you had asthma until you had a panic attack. Two, you’ve been a bit more distant than usual. Three, you’ve never been timid or careful on stage until now. _Four—“_

“Alright, I get it,” Harry choked out before another quick drag. “I know I’ve been a bit off as well, but...Europe will be better, I promise.”

Sarah eyed him with doubt etched into her features. Always seemingly aware of something Harry was not.

“Give me that,” she snatched the spliff from his hold and stubbed it out against the seat. “What’s got you all strung out, H?”

“Nothing.” he lied with his expression perplexed.

“We have eight hours left on this fight, I’ll badger you through every last one of them.”

Harry sighed. He knew he wasn’t ready to open up again, but he also knew there was no way around it. The flight itself had him fucking trapped.

“I’m just...” Harry paused and considered his words. “Having a hard time s’all.”

“With what, babe?”

“With _everything_.” Harry threw his hands up weakly. Attempting to fight an already losing battle.

“Let’s narrow it down to one, yeah? What’s sitting heaviest on your heart?”

They both knew the answer to that. It’s been written all over his face for a while. And although he appreciates her giving him the opportunity to admit it himself, he still kind of wished he could avoid breaching this topic overall.

“I’m just morbidly homesick this time around.” Harry shrugged defeated. “I miss him.”

“That’s normal.” She tried for comforting. “We’re all missing someone on this tour.”

It only further peeved him.

“It’s different for me, Sarah. You lot have family and friends to miss. I _only_ have Louis, and neither of us have any sort of family aside from each other.” Harry felt her shift uncomfortably beside him. Gripping his shoulder gently as a way of encouragement. “We built our lives together from the ground up, and I’m just having a hard time adjusting without him.”

“Have you talked to him about this?”

“No,” Harry clammed up under guilt. “I’ve just been avoiding him.”

“And why is that?”

“Because….I don’t know.” Harry shrugged as he felt his resolve crumble. Whether the cause was hydroponics or his emotions finally boiling over, he knew there was no stopping it now. “I feel weak without him and I feel even weaker for needing him. When we’re apart, it feels like walls are closing in around me and I can’t breathe, and being exhausted only amplifies it. Then when I feel myself reach out for him it feels— _wrong_.”

“Why?” Sarah quirked her lips. “What, to you, feels _wrong_ about needing support from your companion of so many years?”

“It’s not—that’s not what I mean _,_ it’s just...”

Harry struggled to keep the words flowing. Struggled to make any sense of everything he has kept bottled up inside since before landing in Hawaii. It wasn’t that he thought needing Louis’ support was wrong, it was just the unfamiliar feeling of depending so heavily on him. For his health, for his joy, for everything. How was Harry meant to put that into words?

“I don’t know. I guess it’s just hard for me to admit that I’ve always relied on him. I always thought of myself as strong and in control, but I genuinely feel lost without him.”

“Don’t say that,” Sarah tut with a scowl. “Being apart may not be easy, but you’re getting by just fine.”

“Yeah,” Harry laughed dryly. “Nearly blacking out this morning was _just fine._ ”

“Oh come off it, Harry. I really think you’re reading a bit too far into things. You’re not lost, you’re _here_. You’re giving your best on stage every night and roughing it out just like the rest of us. If codependency was actually an issue here, you wouldn’t be on this flight let alone this tour. You miss your partner, understandably so, but avoiding him is clearly only making things worse for yourself. Let him take care of you for once.”

Harry moved his lips to retort but was unable to. There was no counter argument. There was no right way to justify his behavior. Sarah was right, and it was bloody fucking hard to admit it to himself. All along Harry thought he was doing himself a favor by shutting down and avoiding his issues, but he had never been more wrong.

Louis was probably worried. Not hearing from each other normally drained both of them and kept them on edge.

It was hypocritical of Harry to avoid Louis, especially when he discouraged him of the same thing just a few months prior.

“Swallow your pride, darling. It’s unfair to you both.”

 

***

 

**June 10th 1983**

 

Lost in the dim lights of the Parisian halls, Harry wandered the lonely floor in search of where he was meant to sleep. Baroque and extravagance framed the hotel walls with fixtures dripping in diamonds, and door knobs encrusted in gold. It was all a bit much. Harry only needed a bed and warm sheets and somewhere to rest his throbbing head. His eyes were bloodshot and he was barely able to stand on his own two feet.

Harry keyed open the door to his temporary room subdued in darkness, the only glimmer of light coming from the open window view of the Eiffel Tower at night. It was stunning and warm. A picturesque summer evening in Paris. One where on any other day, Harry would properly enjoy this view—

“ _Babe?_ ” a small voice called from around the corner.

Harry’s heart plummeted through his aching chest. He dropped his belongings, rushing away from the sitting room, and into the shadows of the bedroom.

“Lou?” He searched in a mild panic only to see his lover right across from him, lying across the moonlit sheets.

“Hi,” he sat up slowly, duvet dropping down around his bare waist, and soft glow lighting up the silhouette of his body. “ _Surprise_.”

Harry stumbled over on his knees and curled his arms around Louis’ body. The scent of him was comforting. The tug of his fingers curling and carding through his hair was soothing. The gentle touch of him was relieving. Harry felt the bitter strain of his shoulders slacken as he finally felt able to breathe.

“What—what are you doing here, my love?” Harry choked out, willing himself to stay calm in case of another attack.

“I wrapped up filming in New York and got the earliest flight out.” Louis soothed him with his sleepy tone and familiar touch. “Jeff organized everything else for me.”

Louis gripped his fingers at the nape of Harry’s neck, pulling his face upward, and away from the warmth of his lap. He stared into his soul before kissing him slow. The weight of his yearning pressed firm against Harry’s weary lips. As Louis pulled away, and let his lips glisten with bliss, Harry praised the moonlight for how it illuminated his lover’s face.

“Jeff gets your attention more than me it seems,” Harry tried for a joke. Neither of them found it funny.

“When you’re not there, I call to ask him how you’re doing,” Louis whispered, digging his fingers back into the lifeless fringe of Harry’s hair. “And he answers me honestly.”

Guilt raged through Harry’s veins with a scalding, punishing heat. His face flushed in shame and his throat bobbed around the words he couldn’t form.

“He told me about Hawaii.” Louis explained carefully. “I’ve been pacing around this place ever since.”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Harry shook his head in frustration. “I told him not to, baby, I’m sorry—”

“Harry, I’m your fucking partner of six years. I _need_ to know these things. You went without calling me for a week and even then, would you have told me how bloody exhausted you were? Would you have let me known that you panicked like that?”

“Sweetheart, I didn’t want to worry you—“

“Enough with the _sweetheart_ shit,” Louis pleaded with a snarled lip and a gentle tug to Harry’s hair. “I’m always worried about your wellbeing and because of that, I need you to communicate with me. Stop getting into your own head and shutting me out before I even get a chance to find out what’s wrong. We can’t keep doing that to each other, yeah? I’ve been working on it for you and now I need you to do the same for me.”

Harry cringed around the white heat of shame as he caught sight of the hurt in Louis’ eyes. A hundred different shades of blue, all masked and muddled in disappointment.

This is never what Harry intended. Time spent avoiding him was only meant to make himself better, and stronger, and less dependent on his partner. He realises now how fucking stupid that was.

“I—okay, yeah,” Harry sighed and dug his hands into the rounded dip of Louis’ hips. “I’ve just been worn out and missing you, and I’ve been a shit partner, but I’ll do better for us. I promise.”

Harry buried his flaming face into the cool bed sheets wrapped around Louis’ waist, kissing and nibbling his salty sweet skin. Louis ran his slim fingers through Harry’s thick hair, taking his sweet time to relax him, and calm the flutters from his jittering muscles. It only ever took his touch to heal.

“Thank you.” Louis smirked before pulling him up by the hair, and leaning in to steal a kiss. “That was much easier than I thought.”

“I’m just tired of disappointing you, Lou. I want to be better.”

“M’not disappointed.” He mentioned sincerely. “I just want you to be alright. I’m always concerned for your safety.”

Harry pressed his lips together in a meek, trembling line as Louis dragged the tips of his thumbs to trace the unkempt stubble at the bow of his lip. His mouth wobbled beneath them, and before Louis could further expose him, Harry kissed his fingers, and stood up on trembling legs. He slipped off his shirt and kicked off his trousers til he was stood in his threadbare pants.

Blue eyes gazed up at him as nimble hands caressed his own. It was the first time their fingers had laced in months, and Harry could suddenly feel again.

“ _Are_ you going to be alright?” Louis asked from the heart. Worry still slightly coating the back of his throat.

“That all depends on how near you sleep next to me, darling.”

Louis let their fingers play, still unsure of it all. Harry’s answer wasn’t exactly direct but Louis didn’t seem to be looking for a fight. Perhaps they would end up in a compromise and one solid night of sleep together. It’s what they both needed anyway.

“Well, then, what are you waiting for?” he challenged softly. “I’ve been lonely for hours just waiting up for you.”

Harry laughed and tumbled over him into the bed and under the sheets, pulling Louis tight against his chest.

“I’m here now.” Harry whispered, allowing his eyes to shut comfortably. “Sleep now, little love.”

 

***

 

**June 11th 1983**

 

Paris properly greeted Harry with a summer breeze and warm English tea. His precious boy danced around the hotel room naked on his tiptoes, saved for the stolen sleepshirt from Harry’s open luggage. Harry watched silently from the comfort of his pillows as Louis rolled his hips to the tune of French jazz. It should have looked silly, it should have made Harry laugh, but it did nothing but turn him on.

The way the breeze blew the curtains around him, the way the fabric bunched at his waist and slipped off his pearlescent skin, the way trumpets and baritones succumbed to the rhythm of his moves. It was all so arousing, and quite a lovely sight to wake up to. It lured Harry out of his lethargic state and into the late hours of the morning.

Louis turned on his heel and danced himself away from the old record player. Harry snapped his eyes shut, hoping that Louis hadn’t noticed him watching.

“I saw you,” Louis busted him and Harry laughed a shade of embarrassed into the sheets. “Why don’t you get out of bed and join me?”

“Why don’t you get _into_ bed and join _me_ ,” Harry shucked the sheets off his body and pat his thinly clothed erection. “Warmed your seat and everything.”

Louis smiled back at him with a soft giggle and flirty eyes, dancing his way over to the foot of the bed. The trumpets whistled as Louis crawled delicately on his hands and knees, Harry’s erection doing no better. His devilish grin played sinfully on his lips as he reached Harry, and carefully straddled himself just above his hips, lacing their fingers on instinct. Both looked back at each other. Eyes soft and waiting for Louis to drop his arse down. Such a _tease_.

“ _Daddy_ ,” Louis beckoned as he hovered above him. “I want to go dancing,”

Harry thrust his hips upward, just barely missing the feel of friction.

“Yeah?” He whined pathetically.

“Mhmm,” Louis smirked as he dropped and dragged his arse against Harry’s cock. _Fuck._ “Want you to show me around Paris and take me somewhere with fruity drinks and fruitier men.”

Harry squeezed their laced hands together and groaned as Louis swiveled his arse against him. He moved to the rhythm of the trombones. Grinding, bouncing, and swirling. Harry shook with the feel of his bare arse persuading him with every move.

“Why don’t we just stay—” his eyes fluttered as he gasped under the increasingly warm friction. “Just–just stay in, and enjoy each other’s company here.”

“No,” Louis halted his movements and planted his bum away from Harry’s cock. “We are not spending our time in Paris indoors–no matter how nice this place is.”

Harry sighed and threw his arms down in a fit. He was fucking aroused. He couldn’t help it.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked on a bit of a huff.

“The Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, wherever Paris’ gay district happens to be.” Louis listed with a light to his excited smile. “Places where no one knows your name.”

“Don’t be so cliche.” Harry teased around a smile that came so easily.

“Don’t be such a boring prat,” Louis teased back, gentle smirk on his face. He moved back down against Harry’s length and carefully placed Harry’s hands on top of his thighs. “Come on,” he begged. “Please?”

Harry bit his lip against the convincing pace of Louis’ arse, slow and soft, and dragging against all his sensitive bits. He wasn’t going to deny him, Louis knew that much as well. But it never hurt either of them to edge the process along. Especially, when it felt this good.

“Please,” Louis whispered before leaning down and stealing a filthy, slick, kiss from Harry’s lips. “Please, _Daddy_ ,”

“Fuck,” Harry moaned as he grabbed handfuls of Louis’ flesh. “You always know how to get your bloody way, don’t you?”

“Is that a yes, then?” he giggled.

“ _Yes_ , of course.” Harry rolled them over and pinned Louis’ wrists above him. “I’ll even take you dancing—let all the Paris boys see how uncoordinated we are.”

Louis laughed unabashed and bright and Harry couldn’t help but press down for a kiss. God, has he missed him.

“ _Mmm_ , you’re so much more attractive when you give me what I want.” Louis smiled and leaned back in for a quick peck. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Harry kissed from the corner of his lips to the dip of his neck, grinding down against Louis’ thigh. “I’m about to become really attractive in just a second.”

“But, I wanted to leave soon,” Louis complained whilst grinding his hips forward.

“I really don’t need that long,” Harry admitted through an unashamed smirk. “Trust me, baby.”

“You’re a menace,” Louis thrust up against him and let their glassy eyes roll back in shared ecstasy. “Get to it, then.”

 

\--

 

In the midst of a raid, Harry never expected to feel so aroused. He kept his eyes trained on Louis as he tangled his tongue between a pair of cherries, sucking them into his mouth, and teasing the space between the stem. They weren’t allowed to dance in the face of a police officer, or even touch each other’s skin, but they could at least look as everything around them went still.

The baseline thumped as their flashlights shined, and everyone ducked their heads in silence. Louis fondled the cherries between his lips, giving Harry a distracting view of his mouth, and a hard-on from the risk of it all. He would have to punish him later, but for now he would enjoy it.

“You’re out of your bloody mind, little one.” Harry whispered between them and grabbed his mixed drink to sip.

Louis didn’t speak. Just took a dripping cherry between his teeth and bit down, red juices slipping from his mouth. Harry discreetly adjusted himself as the flashlights shined bright his way. Angered eyes stared him down but he didn’t give a second look their way. Louis chewed calmly, sucking the other side of the cherry in his mouth before discarding the stem on the bar top. Harry smirked at the sight of him.

The officers spouted something in French. Something that sounded a bit like a warning or something to be afraid of. The masses kept their heads ducked and rolled their eyes amongst themselves, irritated in the face of homophobia. Harry shook with a fleeting sense of fear even as Louis kept him calm, cool, and distracted.

As the officers showed themselves out, and had the doors locked behind them, queens vogued from behind the safety of shadows, men embraced in each other’s personal space, and the pop music was turned up to eleven. Louis danced over on his tipsy toes. His smile unabashed and relieved as he fell into Harry’s arms.

“Can you imagine the headlines if any of those officers were to arrest you?” Louis giggled warm yet shaken.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” Harry shrugged as he pulled his boy in closer. “Jeff would still find a way for me to perform tomorrow.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to talk about Jeff right now.” Louis plucked the drink from Harry’s hand and swiftly finished it off himself. “Let’s dance.”

Louis set the empty glass on the bar top and led Harry out to the dance floor. He wrapped his clingy hands around his neck as Harry slid his own into Louis’ back pockets. Their fronts pressed up against each other and their hips swayed to the beat. It was nice to be around people of their own. No lingering eyes. No spitting disgust.

They were incredibly fortunate to not be recognized. Nobody bothered Harry for an autograph and no one approached Louis about past films. It was like hiding in plain sight, and even if someone here were to pick up on them, Harry knew his community wouldn’t speak a word.

“Did you have a good time today?” Harry spoke into the shell of his ear.

“Of course I did,” Louis hollered. “You’re so romantic when you want to be.”

“Anything for my baby.” Harry kissed into his neck and smiled against the feel of Louis’ laughter. “You know, today has sort of felt like a first date in a way,” Harry voiced crisp into his ear. “a rather extravagant one for two Richmond lads, but it still felt like one.”

“Really?” Louis leaned back with a smirk and met the green of Harry’s eyes. “How so?”

“Well, for one, I showered and shaved, and got butterflies when I was getting dressed for you.” Harry dimpled as he squeezed his hands inside Louis’ pockets. “I tried to impress you at the Eiffel Tower, I snuck a kiss in front of the Mona Lisa, I bought us fresh pastries that were well overpriced, and now I get to have you in public, and maybe you’ll even invite me up when I take you home.”

“Mmm, that’s a bit presumptuous,” Louis bit down on his smile, lighting up beneath the club lights. “But, you’re so cute I just might.”

Harry grinned at his cheekiness and kissed him hard on the mouth. The warmth of their bodies pressed tight against each other as Harry basked in his possession, and the ability to kiss his boy out in the open. Men near them whistled. Boys around them hollered. Both Harry and Louis laughed themselves out of the kiss and buried their flaming faces within each other.

“I love being able to do this with you,” Harry whispered, giddiness taking over his face, and life. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this happy. “Our love always feels brand new.”

Louis twirled out of Harry’s hold and pressed his back to his front. Harry’s hands wrapped around his rolling hips and his lips found their rightful place on his neck. Louis sighed in pleasure as his pale skin was bruised up by teeth.

“We’re so lucky,” Louis whimpered. “Especially right now.”

“Love you,” Harry groaned out between kisses. “mon amour, mon ange, mon _chéri_.”

Louis giggled in his hold, nearly folding over at the waist. Harry just chased after him with his lips. Kissing his love wherever he could reach.

“I’m trying to dirty dance with you! Stop being such a sap.” Louis laughed and leaned fully back against Harry, pressing his bum firmly against his crotch.

“Shit,” Harry panted whilst losing his balance. “Sorry— _Sorry._ M’just...really, really happy.”

“I am too, babe. I’ve missed you so much.” Louis dipped his head back, pouting his lips out for a kiss. Harry gave into him. Of course he did. “Now bloody dance with me, the night won’t stay young.”

 

***

 

**June 12th 1983**

 

Coming down from his post show high was never easy to do alone. His hands would shake, the room would spin, and his heart would pound erratically. It was painful. It was draining. But with Louis around, he didn’t have to come down.

Every touch was electric. Every bite and nip of Louis’ teeth was stimulating. The two of them paid no mind to as they stumbled distractedly up the carpeted steps of the hotel lobby. Their flight to Berlin would have them in the morning, but for now, they’d have each other in Paris.

“I fucking love watching you sing to me,” Louis paused as Harry pinned him up against the wall of the landing. “A thousand other people in the room and all you can look at is me.”

“How could I not?” Harry asked between hitching up Louis’ leg and slipping his hand beneath his shorts. “You looked so fit right there in the front row. Did you wear these tiny shorts just for me?”

“Of course I did.”

Louis dissolved into a flurry of giggles and moans as Harry licked against his neck and grabbed his arse possessively. It was a bit risky to be so physical in the open, but neither one of them cared. Mostly everyone in the hotel was assumed to be asleep anyway.

“I wanna eat right through them,” Harry whispered, stealing another handful of Louis’ bum.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Louis whimpered. “So what are you waiting for?”

Harry laughed, picking Louis up off the wall, and gripping his hands under his thighs. Louis wrapped around him effortlessly, kissing and nipping his lips as Harry hauled them up the stairs. Adrenaline and lust coursed through his veins. Cock already hard where it rubbed up against—

“Harry?” Adam’s voice called from the bottom of the steps, the stench of pot and cigarettes tainting the air. “S’that you up there?”

“Has he finally caught himself a bird?”

“A french lass, yeah?”

Adam’s voice bounced off of Mitch’s as they quickly determined Harry was not alone in the stairwell.

“Hey—guys, just let him be,” Jeff tried to put a stop to it, but by then it was too late.

Louis tensed in his hold and dropped his shaking legs from around Harry’s waist. The two of them were caught in a state of panic, faces drained of colour and mouths dropped open in fear.

Harry could hear their snickers and crude laughter inching closer and closer. Footsteps stomped against the landing and made their way up towards them. It was all uncomfortably familiar as that dreadful night in New York. Louis looked to him for an out – for a way to avoid the endless amount of terrible ways this could possibly end – but Harry was completely stunned. Adrenaline turned to blocks of ice in his veins.

“Harry come on,” Louis whispered, right on the verge of anguished. “If they don’t kill us, Jeff will—”

“Let’s see her, lad.” Adam shouted as he made it up the stairs. “I was beginning to think you’d never give in—“

Harry quickly tucked Louis behind him in a last ditch effort to protect them both, their hands clammy and intertwined, and tense around the knuckles. The lot of them cornered Harry. Sarah and Jeff wide eyed and sober as Adam and Mitch registered the image of them.

“S’that your roommate?” Adam asked, eyes red, glassy, and confused. “The same one from New York?”

“It is,” Mitch confirmed. His stare gone blank and unreadable.

Adam looked around to Sarah and Jeff, hoping they’d share his same look of utter shock and disbelief. Harry’s knees slightly gave as he anticipated whatever was to come next. Louis’ tender caresses on the back of his hand a solid reminder that he wasn’t here alone.

“Are you...are you fucking your flatmate?”

“Adam—“

“You’re _queer_ ?” he yelled with the same underlying disgust that came along with being outed. “You’re—what the _fuck_ —you don’t look it? Why don’t you dress like him? Or talk and walk the way _they_ do?”

Harry swallowed hard, biting his tongue against the lists of damage that can be done with a mindset like his, how stereotyping was actually harmful, and how he sounded fucking ignorant spouting his shit.

“Did you know?” Adam circled back around to Jeff who was suddenly lost for words. “You too?” he whipped over towards Sarah, who only bit her lip in fear. “All of you knew and didn’t fucking bother to tell me? Don’t you think I ought to know the queer I’m sharing a tour with?”

Everyone around them went stiff. The tone of Adam’s words lashed against them without care or discretion. He was horrified— _scandalized_ —by the idea of Harry sleeping with another man.

“It’s not _your_ tour to share, Adam, it’s Harry’s,” Louis stepped from around Harry’s back. “People aren’t lining up to see _you_ , they’re here for him—“

“A false image of him, yeah? They’re not out there for _this_ fucking version of Harry,” Adam raged over him. “Do you really think any of these shows would sell out if I were to let any of them know about this?”

“Is that a threat, mate?” Louis challenged with his hand clasped in Harry’s. “You know you’ll end up just as out of a job as you were _before_ Harry gave you a chance, yeah? S’that what you want? Is losing it all worth sharing a truth that isn’t yours?”

Adam laughed humorlessly as he looked between the lot of them.

“Christ, it all makes sense now. I _knew_ there was something more to you when Harry came after me for telling you to fuck off in New York. No real man would protect another man so fiercely, especially not just a _flatmate_.”

“Adam, you’re only making things worse.” Sarah cut it gently.

“You should be angry too!” he yelled whilst turning to address her. “Our careers are on the line and he’s out here being reckless in the stairwell.”

“You had no problem with his _recklessness_ when you assumed he was with a _bird_!” she defended.

“That’s because that’s normal! That’s what you expect to see from rock stars like Harry bloody Styles. He’s _supposed_ to be fucking groupies in the hallway.”

Harry felt dizzy and nauseous and outrageously irritable at everything being projected onto him. It was mad how ‘womanizer Harry Styles’ was normal in the world of Adam and straight men alike, and ‘faithfully committed to one person for years’ was not. It was tormenting. It was exhausting. Harry loathed everything that was considered acceptable.

“I’m not sure why my personal life matters so much to you.” Harry spit in the presence of hate. “S’no one’s business who I choose to lay with.”

“ _What?_ ” Adam asked incredulous. “I don’t care who you shag—“

“Then you should have no problem keeping this to yourself, yeah?” Harry spoke with poise, refusing to lose his cool in a situation this delicate. “You’ll have no problem waking up tomorrow and acting like this never happened, you’ll get to keep playing your strings for me, and you’ll completely move on from this accident, yes?”

Adam ignored him through pressed lips and clenched fists, wholly embodying the image of refusal. He wasn’t directly saying no, but his silence did the speaking for him. He was caught in the middle of his own shitty morals.

“It’ll be my word against yours and you’ll only come out of this a villain.” Harry threatened. “If you sell me out, you’ll never play at a professional level again. I’ll bloody make sure of it.”

Harry felt the chill of his words roll down his spine, and strike everyone around him. Even Louis’ hand tensed briefly in his grip as he remained steady and unwavering by his side.

Harry stood resistant, protecting himself and the man he loves over a musician he barely knew. He never imagined having to scare someone _straight_ , but here he was.

“When you auditioned for me, I decided to give you a chance at this life—a chance that no other artist was willing to give you. I’m ready to give you another, if you’ll just move on from this, and keep it all to yourself. And that goes for everyone here.”

Harry looked over as Sarah and Jeff nodded, both fully understanding the weight of the situation. Mitch stared back blankly, eyes even more glazed over than a moment before. Adam looked as if his resolve was crumbling, and it only seemed to frustrate him more.

Louis tucked himself against Harry’s side, dropping their hands and wrapping his own around Harry’s waist. He pressed a kiss to the corner of his clenched jaw and let his head rest against the pounding rhythm of his chest. So unabashed. So shameless. So unimaginably brave.

Harry pulled him in closer, slipping his right hand into his back pocket, and finding a bit of solace in their embrace. Harry was nervous and terrified, but Louis kept him impossibly grounded.

“I don’t mind,” Mitch shrugged, voice gravely and a bit slurred. “and I wouldn’t repeat this to anyone. It’s not my place.”

Harry inhaled, a bit stunned, a bit grateful.

“Um, thanks—thank you.” He stuttered.

“You know I’ll never tell a soul,” Sarah spoke with a sad curl to her lips, hurt painting the expressions of her face. “Your secret is always safe with me.”

“I’ve never cared, and I’d never sell either of you out.” Jeff cut in. “And I, as well, will make sure anyone who lets this slip, will never find work in this industry again. _Ever._ Harry is too valuable to our label, and the execs higher up wouldn’t be too pleased with a forced outing either. So that is something to think about, as well.”

It wasn’t shaped as a threat, it was a promise, and it was directed at the only man still petulantly rolling his eyes at the smallest amount of acceptance.

“Fuck,” Adam resigned, his arms now crossed uncomfortably over his chest. “I don’t care where you stick your cock, Harry, that’s not up to me to judge. But you can’t just ask me to immediately accept your way of life—”

“I’m _not_.” Harry reminded. “I’m only asking for confidentiality. You don’t have to like me or the life I live, I just need to be able to trust that you’ll keep my relationship with Louis under wraps, at least until we’re allowed to tell the world ourselves.”

Adam glanced between them, hard stare softening, and fists uncurling from his chest.

“We might never be able to do that,” Louis spoke, partially pained by their reality. “Not with me having to play a straight man on screen and Harry having to play a straight man on stage. But even so, how we decide to let everyone know, is not up to you, and I can only hope that you would respect our wishes.”

“I… _god,_ ” Adam shook his head, raking an unsure hand through the thick of his hair.

Harry could not imagine what on earth he could still be considering. Adam’s future was quite literally being handed over on a silver platter, one option clearly better than the other. It was staggering what homophobia could do to a person.

“ _Alright_.” He answered, still a bit hesitant.

“Alright?” Harry pushed. Brows pinched in hope.

“Alright, you have my word.” Adam stepped closer, squaring his shoulders and letting his glazed over eyes hold a genuine gaze. “You gave me a chance to showcase my talents, and I’m grateful for that. I’ve had the time of my life on this tour and I’d really like to work with you again in the future. It’s the least I can do, man.”

Harry watched as he extended a hand forward and held it firm for him to shake. The lines of his stiff body were reluctant but him setting aside his pride told another story. Harry _wanted_ to be able to trust him, and _wanted_ both of them to be able to move forward from this, but it was hard to tell. This situation had them all a bit foggy.

“Okay,” Harry slipped his hand from Louis’ pocket and shook the hand extended towards him. The shake felt genuine enough. Both hands gripping hard and solid, and just on the right side of trustworthy. Adam even extended his hand out to Louis. Their hands shook loose and fleeting, but it was enough for now. “We’ll see you lot in the morning, yeah?”

With a silent nod, Mitch and Adam went on their way, bodies still tense at the shoulders. Sarah whispered a goodnight and slowly followed behind. Harry would have to thank her later, she didn’t have to defend either of them, but she did. Jeff stuck around until the others were out of sight, leaving him to witness the soft press of Louis’ lips to Harry’s cheek, and the color returning to both of their faces.

“I have a stack of NDA’s ready to go for situations like this,” Jeff informed them with a careful and understanding tone. He wasn’t as angry as Harry imagined he would be. “I won’t let any of them board the flight without signing, so. You’re both safe for now.”

“Thank you,” Harry sighed a bit shakily, adrenaline viciously spiking back through his veins. “I’m sorry. For everything. I didn’t...I didn’t mean to—“

“You didn’t mean to get caught, yeah yeah.” Jeff shrugged, energy drained from his exhausted bones. “Just try to get some sleep, alright? Berlin is already awaiting us.”

“Alright,” Harry sighed, tucking Louis safely against his side. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Sweet dreams, Jeff.” Louis wished him goodnight and they both watched as he walked away, down the hall, around the corner.

Both of them stood there for a minute, rooted in the murk of the aftermath, hoping for everyone and everything to disappear. Harry breathed sharply. Inhaling his lover’s scent and letting it calm his jittering soul. Louis fell into him, heaving in and out, and burying burning his face in the crook Harry’s neck.  

Their fingers dug into the trembling curves of each other. Louis’ nails scratched helplessly across the dips and blades of Harry’s back.

“ _Christ_ , Harry,” Louis grieved, his clenching hands quietly begging to hold him closer.

“Shh, Love,” Harry soothed as he kissed the crown of Louis’ head, letting his cheek rest gently against him. “It’s okay. _We’re_ okay. Everything will be okay.”

Shaken together in a blurry, dumbfounded state, they rocked each other from side to side, holding their bodies closer than ever before. Harry wanted them to be okay, and perhaps someday they would be, but it was simply too hard to promise that to him now.

Hate only seemed to fester, and it was difficult to imagine a peaceful road to acceptance.

“Babe,” Louis squeaked from within Harry’s embrace. “ _Babe_ —You’re crushing me.”

“Shit, sorry.” Harry pulled back, gently cupping his hands delicately around Louis’ waist. His smile was weak and his eyes were brimmed with distress, but his breathing seemed to even, and his trembling skin went pliant to the touch. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright—I’m...” Louis trailed off, shrugging his shoulders, and attempting an unstable grin. “I'm just a bit shaken up, that’s all.”

“That’s alright,” Harry gently squeezed his hips. “I’m pretty shaken too.”

Louis’ chest caved in relief, his clenching jaw slackened, his nervous lips turned pink. A tinge of fear sat caught in his eyes. Harry kissed one, and kissed the other, reaffirming he wasn’t alone.

“I love you,” he whispered between kisses. “I will always protect you.” he leaned his clammy forehead against his lover’s and let him wallow in the weight of his presence. “Let’s just go to bed, yeah?”

Harry cupped the sides of Louis’ face, pressing a hesitant kiss to the corner of his lips. The need to touch, feel, and console him outweighed the unsettling urge to check over their shoulders. He prayed that one day they would never have to.

“I probably won’t get any sleep tonight,” Louis admitted with wide eyed vulnerability. “But I can pretend for your sake.”

Always sweet. Endlessly generous. Harry wouldn’t get much sleep himself, but as he laced his fingers between Louis’, and led them down the condemning halls, he only allowed himself to be of comfort. To be what they _needed_.

“We can pretend together.”

 

***

 

**June 16th, 1983**

 

Harry could not tell where he has been. Somewhere with elaborate canals deeply rooted within the seventeenth century town, and districts washed red in the moonlight. The houses looked as if they were plucked from paintings and the coffee shops openly peddled medicinal marijuana.

It was an odd place but Louis loved it here, and that’s all Harry cared to know about it.

“I don’t want you to leave,” Harry whined, as he briefly lost feeling in his fingertips. “Having you here has been, so….amazing. You’re so much fun, baby.”

“M’not leaving just yet,” Louis folded his belongings one article at a time. “M’just packing ahead of time. I know I won’t be able to after your show tonight.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Harry asked, trailing his fingers against the skin beneath his waistband.

“You’re always so horny when you’re high, and then to combine that with your post show adrenaline? You’ll be ready to go all night.”

Harry cackled loudly. The room spun around him as he fell gracelessly against the hotel sheets. American spliffs had never hit him this hard. Time never slowed like this and numbness never felt so blissful.

“I’ll be good,” Harry promised. “Maybe I’ll just watch you pack... _naked_.”

Louis shook his head with a stubborn smirk on his face and a pink flush staining his cheeks. “M’never letting you get high in Amsterdam again.”

“S’that where we are? Amsterdam?”

“Yes, Love.” Louis giggled as he looked his way. “You’ll need to remember that when you address the audience tonight.”

Harry was only half listening, too focused on the delicate movements of Louis’ hands and a golden tube he plucked from a side pocket - something Harry had never seen before. He watched as Louis toyed with it for a moment. The light catching against it as Louis clumsily flicked it between his fingers.

“What is that, baby?” Harry asked with listless curiosity.

Louis didn’t respond, instead he smiled on a bitten lip, and tiptoed his way forward. Harry sat up slowly, suddenly more interested with every calculated step he took.

“You know, I’ve been thinking a lot about what Adam said, and how people expect this image from you,” The bed dipped on each side of Harry as Louis straddled his waist and pressed their bare hips together. “The one that sleeps around in every city he passes through, and writes ballads inspired by groupies along the way.”

Louis mocked the idea with a roll of his eyes, Harry couldn’t help but giggle. Their mouths met briefly, soft and unhurried - unable to keep their smiles from pressing together, as if the honeymoon phase was their permanent residency.

Harry slid his hands from the curve of Louis’ flanks to the subtle dip of his hips, immediately stopped before he could venture any further.

Louis pulled back with a smile, coy and somewhat secretive. He pushed Harry’s chest with his fingertips and brought the gold tube up to his eyes.

Lipstick. _Louis Vuitton._

“I was thinking, and I kind of want to _play_ with that idea.” Louis confessed, the tremble of his words only slightly timid.  

“Yeah?” Harry encouraged. “You want to try something new, then?”

“Kind of,” Louis smirked under a heated blush. “But only as a one time thing...for us.”

Harry sat struck in confusion and the endless possibilities of the unknown. Normally, he had an idea of what Louis was planning to ask for. Whether it was a scene mentioned in passing, or a comment about something they should try, Louis normally dropped hints right before allowing himself to be vulnerable. Not this time around, however.

There was nothing that Harry would deny him of, especially when beckoned whilst stoned, he just couldn’t imagine what in the world Louis could be aching for.

“Right now? We don’t have much time.” Harry asked, Louis nodded. “Alright, my love. What is it?”

Louis held their gaze for a moment, beams of descending sunlight kaleidoscoping over him in rich shades of honey. His cheeks blossomed under the heat of intentions and his nibbling lips grew swollen with nerves.

“I want to be the one that has you in Amsterdam,” Louis hummed as he sat up to look Harry in the eye. “I want to leave a claim on you that’s visible. I want to make a statement with my lips and your skin, and keep the truth between the two of us.”

“What...” Harry hesitated. Mind not completely on the same track as Louis’. “What do you mean?”

“I want you to wear my kisses on stage tonight.”

Harry’s back tensed at the suggestion, jaw clenched tight and brows furrowed deeply at the crease. His chest puffed with the breaths he couldn’t take and his soul shuddered at the visions. Louis’ lip curled inward at the sight of his reaction.

Harry knew people would draw their own conclusions, and Louis had to be aware as well. The public wouldn’t perceive it as him wearing the lip stains of his partner - _no -_ the public would only swallow it down as the untamable womanizing, skirt-chasing, illusion that everyone has come to expect him as. They would bloody eat it up.

Harry and Louis could toy with that narrative a bit. Could play right into their hideous fantasies knowing the kisses were sealed by Harry’s favorite set of prickly lips - the only ones he yearns for.

It was _mad_ , but it felt like the upper hand.

“Sorry—” Louis apologized and began to crawl from Harry’s lap, taking the lippie with him. “Sorry, this was a _stupid_ idea, I’m—“

“No _,_ ” Harry latched on to his wrist in a haste, body slowing catching up to his own movements. “I love it, honey—I….—here.”

Harry gently removed the golden tube from Louis’ hand and further examined it. _Louis Vuitton_ engraved in gold, _luxure_ the sinful shade. The product felt every bit expensive and luxurious.

“When did you pick this up, darling?” Harry uncapped the lipstick and twisted the red colour into sight.

“In Paris, the morning after,” Louis mumbled. “Paris was the only place where I was certain this brand existed. I had to get it there because it _had_ to be Louis Vuitton, that way if anyone asked you who’s kisses you were wearing, you could say Louis’ without suspicion.”

Harry sat awed at Louis’ attention to detail. Adam’s words must have weight heavy on his heart for him to dissect every possible scenario.

“I would have said the same thing wearing ninety-nine cent kisses.” Harry defended. “So long as they’re yours.”

“Ninety-nine cents? S’that what you think this mouth is worth?” Louis accused, affronted, as he pointed at his own lips.

Harry bit down harshly as Louis confidently defended his purchase. In a strange way, it was turning Harry on. It almost felt like dirty talk. Something about just _knowing_ , only luxury brands and Harry would ever paint his sweetheart’s lips, was maddening. It was beyond comprehension, but Harry was rather into it.

“You’re spoiled, aren't you baby?”

“I am,” Louis grinned with pride and honesty. “Rightfully so.”

“Come here,” Harry motioned, pressing their lips together and digging his free hand into the nape of Louis’ hair. “M’gonna get your lips all pretty and swollen,” he nipped and kissed along his mouth. “Then I’ll put it on you,” Harry paused to suck hard. The grit and prick of their mouths only fueling their desire. “And it better stay on all night, understood?”

Harry curled his hand harshly in Louis’ hair, pulling a sweet whimper from the plush of his mouth. Their hips rocked erratically. Both of them teased and tongued, and bit possessively against each other’s lips knowing time wasn’t on their side. Harry was due for show time and the clock winding down only pulled their insides tight.

Louis had grown soft in his arms, responding with only hissed whimpers and sporadic shudders as Harry bit with his teeth and tugged his obedient lip forward. Harry soothed every nip with his slick velvet tongue, easing the sting of pain with his licks, and featherlight kisses. Louis’ mouth was a mess. Shiny, swelled, and awaiting Harry’s direction.

“Open for me,” Harry whispered as he removed his hand from Louis’ hair and thumbed around the corners of his slippery lips. Louis let his jaw slightly drop, his eyes glazed and red from pleasure, pain, and weed. Harry cupped his face gently, twisting the lippie upward, and guiding it towards Louis’ lips. “Stay still, petal.”

With a steady hand, Harry swiped the tip of the lipstick along Louis’ bottom lip, coating one corner to the other in blood red lip colour. His swollen mouth tugged with each movement. Every stroke caught against the satin texture of the lipstick. Harry gently parted Louis’ lips further, taking the melted tip and tracing it against the delicate bow of his top lip. The vision of him was ethereal. A red lipped daydream.

“You’re so pretty,” Harry managed. “You’re perfect, Louis. Absolutely flawless.”

“Thank you,” Louis winked as he rubbed his painted lips together, giving himself an even coat. The sight of him was unreal. “Kiss me,” he insisted. “ _Gently_.”

Harry dimpled at his demanding little tone, letting it slide for the sake of his kisses. Slowly, he leaned in and dipped forward, barely letting their lips graze up against each other. Louis carefully puckered his lips forward, sharing an angel-like kiss. Soft, gentle, and sweet. Harry wanted _more_. Wanted to mess Louis up and smear the red lippie between them.

“ _God,_ ” Harry withered, lips still grazing against Louis’. “Want you to suck my cock like this, yeah?”

“After your show,” Louis promised low and sultry. “Now _you_ sit still. I don’t want to mess this up.”

Harry dropped the lipstick and sat back against his hands, watching the way his boy studied his body like the canvas it was. Louis leaned in slowly, tilting Harry’s head to the side with fingertips that burned with anticipation. The sticky press of his lips had Harry’s eyes fluttering. He sighed in sheer contentment as Louis kissed beneath the corner of his jaw, and trailed down slowly, slowly, slowly.

Louis kissed down to his collarbone, down against his peck, and teased at his nipple with the pointed tip of his tongue. Harry groaned in delight just as Louis continued a solid trail down his naked torso, the kisses becoming more transparent as he went on.

Louis paused at his abdomen, letting their eyes meet briefly, before kissing a line down to the low slung hem of his pants. He played with Harry’s soft and unkempt trail of hair, weaving his tongue in and out, and driving Harry absolutely _mad_ with pleasure _._ Before his cock had a chance to twitch, Louis was pressing his final kiss, and leaning back to admire his work.

“My kisses look good on you,” Louis marveled at the sight before him. “I think you should wear something sheer tonight.”

“Yeah?” Harry exhaled the breath he didn’t realise he was holding. “Not feeling the jumpsuit tonight?”

“No,” Louis laughed, tracing his fingertips in the direction of his kiss marks. “And I think you should leave it unbuttoned, maybe only tie it loosely at the ends. I want everyone see what I’ve done to you.”

“Alright, baby doll.” Harry agreed as he interrupted Louis’ fingers and laced them through his own. “Will you keep the lipstick on?”

“Do you think I should?” Louis smiled only a bit unsure.

“Do you want to?”

“I do.”

“Then you definitely should.”

Louis flushed a gorgeous shade of rose and let a beaming grin light up his face. It elated Harry to see him so happy - so comfortable within his own skin. God, how he hoped this really wouldn’t only be a one time thing.

“I’m not going to be able to keep my eyes off of you, Lou,” Harry leaned in and kissed obnoxiously against his forehead. “It’ll be a dead giveaway once people catch me staring at you.”

“Then let it be,” Louis snickered under the heat of adoration. “I’ve been the only one you’ve had your eyes on for years, and I wouldn’t mind if people finally took notice.”

It was mutually understood that nobody would ever put the two together. Everyone in the room would be hypnotized by the obvious display of affection painted across Harry’s neck, and no one would dare think it was from the beautiful boy standing side stage. But if that gave them privacy in a room full of people, Harry didn’t mind, and Louis clearly wouldn’t either.

 

**[***](http://pupperlouis.tumblr.com/post/172393375124/into-the-midnight-sun-by-summerwine-with-a) **


	5. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not beta'd. Beta-ed? Enjoy.

**July 1st 1983**

 

Six months of touring would end in the familiar haze of London, tonight. The crowds would chant his name, the walls would shake with his lyrics, and the show would end epically with English roses tossed humbly at his feet. Harry couldn’t wait for it. Couldn’t wait to close this chapter of his tour on a bittersweet note.

“My girl is coming out tonight,” Sarah beamed from behind the labyrinth of her drums. “We’re spending the whole month off in Liverpool, and then she’ll join us again in Japan.”

“That’s great, I’m excited to finally meet her,” Harry dimpled as he carefully unwrapped his mic cord for sound check. “Louis is coming out too. He’s actually bringing along his friend Fionn as a surprise.”

“That’s nice of him,” she rolled up her sleeves before tapping away at her drums. “Are you excited to meet him as well?”

“Um, sort of,” Harry hesitated. “I’m a bit nervous actually.”

“Why is that?” Sarah thumped, thumped, thumped, against the bass at her foot.

“I don’t know, really. I think I’m mostly nervous for how he’ll react to us surprising him with tickets to Manchester.”

“Manchester? What’s in Manchester?”

“His friends and family, and an old on-again off-again lover. I just don’t want it to look like Louis and I are dumping him off there so we can have some alone time.”

“Ehh, you’re thinking too far into it, he’ll probably just be thrilled to be home again.”

“Yeah, that’s what Louis said.” Harry shrugged as his mic cords hit the ground. “But this is almost like a ‘thank you’ gift to him from me, for everything he’s done for my boy, and I just want it to go well. That’s all.”

“Aww,” Sarah cooed. “look at you and your big heart, what a sap you’ve turned into.”

“Piss off,” Harry threw a laugh her way. “I’ve always been this way and you know it.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and began to properly test out the sound of her instruments, symbols clashing and bass lines thrumming. She played a quick beat before fixing herself and giving her attention back to Harry.

“What are you and Louis going to do, then?”

“We’re going to stay here,” Harry buzzed. “Our anniversary is in two days and Louis wants to spend it in London, where we met.”

“Oh, congratulations!” Sarah exclaimed. “How long has it been now?”

“Seven years.” Harry’s chest swelled with pride. “God, it doesn’t even feel that long.”

“Are you finally going to propose this year? Make each other honest men and all that?”

“I mean, traditional marriage doesn’t really exist for _us_ , we’ve always wanted to, but...” Harry shrugged as he mindlessly fiddled with the base of his mic. “but we both agreed a long time ago that we want a small ceremony and a proper engagement too, we just don’t want to spend too much of our engagement time apart and s’just—over the past few years we’ve become busier and busier, and now we’re just waiting for the right moment, I think.”

“You think?” Sarah replied, sarcasm dripping from her lips. “And what does the _right moment_ look like to you?”

Harry considered, and not for the first time. To him, the right moment looks like Louis sprawled out against bed sheets - messily rumpled from their night of sound sleep - the sun gliding over the slope of his shoulders and tangling in the whisp of his lashes. Harry would wake him with a kiss and the warmth of his doting embrace. _Let’s get married,_ he would whisper, _I don’t care if it’s official - let’s just do it._ Louis’ face would blush into the pillow, dimples carved sweetly into the pink of his cheeks. _Okay_ , he would answer, _let’s get married._

It didn’t feel silly to think about. It almost felt real enough to grasp.

“I don’t know what you’re waiting on, mate. You might as well just do it for yourselves at this point. Just do promise rings or summat. Just be romantic about it.”

“You’re a pushy little buggar aren't you?” Harry flashed a teasing smile.

“Maybe,” she banged against her drums. “Or maybe I’m just planting the seed—”

“Alright,” Jeff grumbled, Adam and part of the stage crew following behind. “We don’t have a lot of time so let’s run through everything.”

“Give me all the details when it happens.” Sarah whispered, cheeky.

Harry smothered his smile into his pre show velour and turned his burning face towards the empty arena. There wasn’t enough time to dwell over the enchanting idea. Sound checking was always fast pace, thorough, and meant to be over with quick.

But even if his mind wasn’t caught up in the idea of it now, it has been for the past seven years, and the custom rings he promised all that time ago, sat heavy in the back of his mind.

 

\--

 

“How are you feeling, London?”

Harry looked out at the crowd, watching their faces stretch in joy as their yelling became mildly piercing. It was always good to get back to his roots. Harry felt the love every time.

“You know, I’ve been all over the world, and played for many different crowds, but nothing ever feels as good as home.” Harry spoke into the mic and let his guitar sling over his back.

With a confident strut he walked down to the edge of the stage, nearly touching the front row, and letting the hollering of the crowd carry him forward. His eyes locked on Louis’ as he shot him a wink. Who he assumed to be Fionn, lost the plot beside him.

“You’ve always had my heart, London.” Harry continued without breaking contact. “I was born here. _Raised_ here. I found myself here. I fell in love here. And if you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to sing to you lovely people about that experience. Are you into it?”

Harry blushed under the arena lights as Louis blew him a kiss, attention gone from the cheering crowd and completely encompassed around his smile. Harry smiled back, and let his dimple show. Bystanders around him began to question who held his attention for so long, and before they could get ahead, Harry blew a soft kiss back and counted off his band.

 

\--

 

“You did incredible,” Jeff complimented as he protectively led Harry out to his town car. “There’s a few fans barricaded off and they’re a bit rabid, but just be cool, alright? Louis and his plus one are already waiting at your hotel, and everything is situated for Sunday.”

“ _Everything?_ ” Harry doubled checked before reaching the exit door.

“Yeah.” Jeff nodded, grin slowly growing. “Congratulations, man.”

“Thanks,” Harry reddened. “But it hasn’t happened yet.”

“I have no doubts.” Jeff clapped against his back, somewhat encouraging, somewhat hurrying. “Now get out there, yeah? They’ve been waiting a while.”

Harry nodded twice and slipped easily into his persona. The double doors opened and immediately he was met with a wall of his shouted name.

The shell of him was cool and at ease, signing all sorts of rubbish that was shoved his way, but on the inside, he was high strung and restless. He went through the motions as his mind stumbled over itself. All he could see was Louis. All he could hear was the pounding in his chest. It felt like he was going to be sick, but somehow, in the best way possible.

He couldn’t wait to get to him. Only a matter of time now.

 

\--

 

With an anxious pound against the door, Harry wheeled his luggage behind him, and waited for the hotel room to swing open. The halls were rich and swanky, and not a sound could be heard from behind the suite walls. Harry knocked again, impatiently. His racing mind could only take so much waiting.

The door creaked open, and behind it stood a slender, shaggy-haired, boyish looking lad, shock clear in the green of his eyes.

“Hi,” Harry spoke softly.

Before he could get out another word, the door slammed in his face. Crisp, loud, and with a mocking thud. Harry should have expected that. At times he forgot how massively known he was. With a calming breath, he tried for a knock again, and only smiled gently as the lad opened the door once again.

“Hey, sorry—sorry. Um,” the lad fumbled over his words. “You’re...you’re Harry Styles.”

“I am—“

“You must have the wrong suite or summat. I—I’m sorry about slamming the door it’s just,”

“Is Louis around?” Harry asked quietly.

“He’s um...he’s just having a shower,” Fionn thickly swallowed and breathed a bit heavier. “Do you know him? How do you know him?”

Harry gently pushed through the door, wheeling in his luggage, and closing it tightly behind him. Fionn looked baffled. Skin paled and eyes blown wide like he couldn’t believe what was unfolding before him.

“Let’s sit, yeah?”

Harry led them over to the sofa, taking a seat in the left corner and carefully patting the cushion beside him. Fionn visibly hesitated, not too sure of what was actually going on or why there was a _rockstar_ in his room. He took the seat anyway, toying with the skin of his thumbs like a nervous, jittery, wreck.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you under normal circumstances,” Harry reached out a hand. “I’m Harry.”

The lad looked down at his hand and back up at Harry’s eyes, suspicious.

“I’m Fionn,” he answered with a firm shake. “Can you tell me what’s bloody happening?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry laughed as he shook his head. “Um, Louis is my partner, and he has been for seven years come Sunday.”

“ _Partners?_ ” Fionn asked.

“Yes, partners. Soulmates. Boyfriends. Whatever you prefer. He hasn’t been making me up this whole time, I promise. It’s me.”

“You two are _together_? Is this a joke?”

“No, mate. Why would I joke about that?”

“Sorry—I don’t know. None of this feels real.” Fionn sighed and scrubbed his face clean of disbelief. “So, you two _are_ together.”

“Yeah. He’s always traveling all over the world to see me because, well...I’m _me_. This whole tour is why I’m never home or in LA, and pretty much why Louis could never talk to you about me.”

“That explains….quite a bit actually. He never even told me your name. Every time I would ask about you he would clam up a bit, and that’s not really like him.”

“Yeah, we had to pull a few strings to make this meeting possible, but it’s great to finally meet you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you too. You’ve been an idol of mine for—” Fionn cut himself off. “Ohhhh, no. Oh, _god,_ nooo _.”_ he cringed. _“_ I forgot I came onto him, mate. I was—oh shit. I'm so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Harry chuckled. “Louis is perpetually charming. I don’t blame you for taking a chance.”

“I respect your relationship. It never happened again, I promise. Louis is a really great friend of mine and I wouldn’t jeopardize that. He’s a really sweet lad.”

“Thank you for that,” Harry smiled. “There’s actually a few things I need to thank you for.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Harry leaned forward, clutching his fists in his lap. “You’ve shown Louis an entire world that I never could. Ever since he met you he’s been feeling less alone in Los Angeles, and his career is finally taking off.”

“Well, that’s nothing to do with me.” Fionn interrupted. “He’s extremely talented and he gets these roles all on his own.”

“I know, I know, but you’re there for him, yeah? He seems to really trust you and that’s not always easy for him to do.” Harry explained. “And you took him to San Francisco. I’m pretty sure he has never spoke with such admiration for a city and it’s people. When we both have nothing going on, he wants to spend some time out there, and just help the community anyway we can. Whether it’s giving money to hospitals, or just sitting with the ill, it’s something we’re both really eager to do. And it’s all thanks to you.”

“Oh, I didn’t—I’m not—that wasn’t all me.” Fionn blushed under praise, seemingly unable to string together words.

“I have something for you, for being so good to him.” Harry unzipped the front pocket of his luggage to retrieve a lone envelope. “You’ve been a support system he has needed. You’ve probably even been a shoulder to cry on even though I know he’d never admit that to me. You’ve just been such a great friend to Louis while I’m away, and it means everything to us. So here’s a gift from him and me.”

Harry handed the envelope over, grinning from cheek to cheek. Fionn took it hesitantly. Hands flipping it over and over and examining every folded edge.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Open it and see, mate.”

Fionn’s suspicious resolve quickly molded into something of excitement. Carefully, he ripped through the sealed off ends, spilling out the insides, and taking a closer look.

His brows dipped in concentration as he read over each ticket. One being a train up to Manchester, and one a flight back home to Los Angeles. Fionn ran his fingers over the card stock. _Astounded._

“We can arrange for you to stay in a hotel while you’re up there, but we figured you would want to stay with family, or friends, or summat.” Harry offered.

Fionn tapped the tickets in his hands, smile breaching the edge of his lips. Before he could form words to speak, he threw himself into Harry. Arms wrapping securely around him and body slightly shaking.

“You have no idea,” he uttered. “No fucking idea, mate _._ ”

“You deserve it.” Harry whispered as he fully embraced him. “For everything you’ve done for him. Thank you.”

Harry stayed there for a moment, holding who was mostly a sobbing stranger in his arms. He understood how heavy this could be. How so many possibilities must have been racing through his mind. Harry held him a bit tighter, just letting him know he was there.

“Oi,” Harry heard from across the room. “What is this, Fionn? Already putting the moves on him too?”

Harry laughed a deep sound, slowly pulling away from his friend. Fionn kept his face buried in his own clammed up hands. Emotions likely too much for one person. Harry kept his grip on his shoulder, making eyes at Louis from across the room to tell him to come over.

“I just gave him our gift,” Harry spoke gently. “And I was thanking him for everything, and telling him how we’re going to spend some time in San Francisco.”

“Aww, I wanted to be here for that,” Louis shrugged beneath a jumper that looked big enough to be Harry’s. “Budge over, yeah?”

Harry shoved himself further into the corner as Fionn made room for Louis on the other side, face still buried in his own hands. Their eyes met over the quivering shoulders of his, both worried about something gone wrong.

“Are you excited, Fionn?” Louis asked as he carefully rubbed his shoulders. “You don’t have to go through with this, we just thought you might like it.”

“Oh, no, _nonono,_ I love it, I’m _thrilled,_ ” he rubbed his face clean, pink blotches staining his English skin. “I’m just...I can’t imagine why you’re giving me something so grand. I’ve done nothing to deserve this.”

“That’s not true,” Harry and Louis responded in unison.

“You’re a great person and a natural caretaker, and that’s exactly what you unknowingly did while I was going through a really tough time in LA. You helped keep me busy and you helped me land a ton of different roles, and you put not only my mind, but Harry’s mind at ease. Let us do this for you.”

Fionn huffed out a breath of disbelief. Eyebrows raised high and head shaking on its own. His smile was still there but his body was still hunched.

“I’m sorry,” he laughed, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I just can’t believe this. I would have never been able to afford this on my own.”

“That’s what rich friends are for,” Louis joked, successfully pulling a laugh from within Fionn. “We weren’t able to contact Nick, however. So if you still need a place to stay—“

“Oh, I know where to find him.” Fionn beamed. “Don’t worry.”

“Alright.” Louis grinned.

The three of them sat in their moment of joy, basking in the silence that followed Fionn’s acceptance. It felt good, it wasn’t uncomfortable.

“So…” Fionn wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Those were _your_ lipstick stains that made headlines the other week then?”

Louis met Harry’s eyes over Fionn’s shoulders. Their smirks and pink faces matched in swelling delight.

“Yeah, that was me.”

“He’s brilliant isn’t he?” Harry stared in adoration, not even paying attention to Fionn’s reply.

It was so good to be around Louis again. They hadn’t gone too long without each other, although two weeks away from him felt like a lifetime. Harry was pathetically romantic—immensely at peace existing right next to him. He could so easily lose himself hour after hour just gazing at the man he’s in love with.

Louis’ lips curled into a shy smile, somehow able to feel Harry’s eyes on him. He responded polite, giving Fionn what anyone would assume was his undivided attention, but Harry had him. Knees bouncing, and fingers squirming, he was visibly itching to climb over into his lover’s lap.

“When do I get to leave, then?” Fionn addressed Harry with a radiating eagerness.

“Well,” Harry looked to Louis for an answer, but was met with an unreadable face. “Maybe we could all have breakfast and afternoon tea, and go from there?”

Fionn looked back to Louis, seemingly having a silent exchange between themselves.

“How about just breakfast?” Louis offered. “It’s a long train ride from here and I’m sure you’re about ready to go.”

“Yeah, yeah, sounds good.” Fionn smiled, body vibrating with energy. “Thank you, both. Again. I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“You don’t have to,” Harry replied. “Just enjoy yourself, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Fionn grinned, tapping the envelope and tickets against his knee. “If you lot don’t mind, I’m going to have a shower, and try to get some sleep. Maybe even have a cry. I’ve already claimed the left bedroom so…”

“We’ll respect your space, lad.” Louis said with a smirk and clapped him gently on the back. “Sweet dreams.”

Harry and Louis sat still in their space as Fionn lifted himself from the sofa, and walked over to his room for the night. The air around them charged. Their muscles tense in want.

Both of them remained unmoving until they heard the click of his door, open and shut, and Louis was on him.

Arms squeezed around his neck, Louis laid himself atop of Harry and embraced him fervently.

“Hi, baby.” Harry hugged back, burying his nose into his lover’s hair. “Mm, I missed you.”

“I missed _you.”_

Louis brought his head from the crook of Harry’s neck, and leaned forward to kiss his lips. It was not rushed. It was sweet. Delicate.

Harry’s lips brushed up against his, one right after another. Prickle of their lips pressing together in a rough caress. Louis slowly adjusted himself. Hips fitting snugly against the frame of Harry’s.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Harry mumbled into the plush of his lips but was silenced by the nip of Louis’ teeth.

Harry let his hands fit around Louis’ waist as he gave into his kiss. Fingertips skirting along the edge of his jumper, Harry allowed Louis to placidly rut against him, skin warm and alluring. He deepened the kiss with a filthy tongue and wicked smile.

It drove Louis mad.

He wanted to take it further, wanted to set the pace at something more aggressive, but Harry wouldn’t budge.

“Harry,” Louis whispered. “Don’t you want to touch me?” he kissed. “and taste me?” he kissed him again. “M’all clean and hard, just for you.”

“I appreciate that,” Harry laughed against his lips, dimples sinking into the curve of his cheeks. “But I’m not doing anything while your friend is in the other room. We both know how loud you can be.”

“I’ll be quiet,” Louis put on his most convincing pout, yawning in the process. “You can gag me if you‘d like.”

Harry shook his head, holding down a deep belly laugh. He missed his twisted humor greatly.

“You’ll be asleep before I even get you undressed.” Harry kissed him and smacked his bum gently. “Did you have a good time, tonight?”

“The _best._ ” he beamed. “You put on such a great show, love. Definitely one for the books.”

“Thanks, Lou.” Harry swiped Louis’ hair from his sleepy eyes, leaning in to kiss the bridge between them. “Lets get some sleep yeah? We have a big weekend ahead of us.”

“Hmm, remind me why again?” Louis giggled as Harry pinched relentlessly at his sides. “I’m _joking_ , I’m joking. I could never forget our day.”

“I like that,” Harry repeated. “ _Our day_.”

“Well it is, and it’s only two sleeps away from us.”

“Well, let’s get to it then.” Harry stood and scooped Louis up in his loving arms, dotting kisses along his sweet face. “I’m cuddling _you_ tonight.”

 

***

 

**July 3rd, 1983**

 

Gentle as the British morning rain, Harry knelt at the side of the bed, pressing warm kisses to the rise of Louis’ cheek. The room was washed in grey. Shadows cast over the lines of Louis’ skin and the dips against the bed. It was only typical London would give them showers on their day. But Harry didn’t mind.

“Petal,” Harry hummed against Louis’ ear, nosing against his silky fringe. “I have breakfast for you.”

Louis laid still. Chest rising and falling at a steady pace and face comfortably pressed into his pillow.

Harry was captivated. The pout of Louis’ lips were swollen with sleep and bruised a flushed shade from kissing, kissing, kissing. The button of his nose was bewitching and the curl of his lashes enticing. He was the mirror image of Harry’s midtour daydreams. Only he was here.

Harry pressed his hand against his sheet covered hip, and rocked him gently.

“Wake up, pretty boy.” Harry kissed his bare shoulder, trailing up to his exposed neck. “I know you hear me.” he nipped. “I know you can smell the sausage.”

Louis choked down his laughter, ultimately failing to swallow it down.

“There you are.” Harry laughed. “I knew a sausage was all it would take.”

“Piss _off_ ,” Louis smothered his grinning face into the pillow, letting Harry continue his messy trail of kisses.

“Here,” he ended on the corner of his mouth. “sit up.”

Harry helped him along, pulling his lithe body from the comfort of their hotel sheets and looking up at him from the floor. Louis rubbed his tired eyes, hair a glorious mess.

“Time s’it?” he mumbled through a yawn, eyes still sleepily closed.

“Half nine.” Harry answered. “Here,”

Harry plucked the single red rose from the tray sat on the end table beside him. Louis wiped his hands from his eyes, vision slowly catching up to him. He sat there for a moment. Blush creeping up on his neck. His smile overwhelmed him as he covered his radiant face in bashfulness.

“Harry—“

“Happy anniversary, baby.” Harry tapped the rose against him and smiled as Louis snatched it from him.

“Thank you,” Louis smiled, leaning in for a kiss and being rewarded with one. “Happy anniversary to you too.”

“M’sorry I couldn’t get you more. I had to nick this one myself to avoid suspicion.”

“It’s perfect.” Louis dipped down for another gentle peck of their lips. “You didn’t have to get me anything, you know this.”

“I know, but I can’t help myself, and there is plenty more where that came from.” Harry dimpled with a wink.

“Wha?” Louis asked confused and slurred. “Harry what are you pla—“

“AHH—“ Harry cut him off to avoid his prying. “Your breakfast is getting cold.” Harry picked a sausage link from the tray, wafting it teasingly in front of Louis’ mouth. “Open.”

“I can feed myself,” Louis grinned as he reached out for the link and was denied by Harry pulling backwards.

“Let me do it,” Harry challenged, letting his face gleam with the simple task. “Please?”

Louis smirked back at him, setting down the rose, and leaning back on his hands. Harry pushed the link up to Louis’ lips again, and dimpled as Louis bit slowly against the end. He chewed carefully. The movements of his jaw teasing.

Harry set down the sausage and replaced it with toast.

“Fancy some jam?”

Louis shook his head in the no motion, swallowing down his food, and opening up for more. Harry took pleasure in placing the toast on his tongue and letting him bite down against it. It was cute. Soft. Everything feeding your loved one could possibly be.

“Give me a kiss.” Louis muffled through crumbly lips.

Harry indulged.

Tilting his head upward, he caught Louis’ puckered lips between his, and giggled at the feel of his full mouth on his. He couldn’t resist pulling Louis closer. The width of his free hand wrapped around the back of Louis’ neck and accidentally brought him down on top of him.

Louis hit his chest as Harry hit the floor, sheets and toast sprawled all around them.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Harry apologized, laughter vivid in his tone. “Are you okay?”

“No you idiot, I could have choked on my toast.” he swallowed down the remains and wiped carefully at the corners of his mouth. “I hit my chin on your shoulder.”

“Aww,” Harry cooed. “Let me kiss it better, baby.”

Louis fought against his kisses but lost the battle as Harry rolled them over, and pinned him to the floor. Louis’ fits were no match for Harry’s lips, and eventually he melted into them. The earth beneath them shifted and it was somewhat like being the only two lovers alive.

Bodies tangled into one, there was no definite beginning or end to Louis and Harry. Just tender love and the taste of their kisses.

Louis pulled back giggling, laying his head carefully on the floor, and eyes caught up in a daze. His hand reached up to cradle Harry’s face, fingertips softly making their way into his hair. The touch alone shot adrenaline through Harry’s veins. Tingling sensations manifested within the empty well of his stomach, and warmed skin around his powerless bones.

Louis had him in the palm of his hand and both of them were aware of it.

“I love you.” Harry whispered as Louis tucked a stubborn lock behind his ear.

“I love you too.”

“No, I mean I _love_ you, babe. I want to bloody love you forever.” Harry spoke unfiltered and cheeky. “That’s all I ever want to do.”

“Then do it.” Louis answered. Bashful little grin blossoming amongst his face. “Surely I'm not going to stop you.”

 _This is the perfect moment,_ Harry thought, _this is all I ever imagined._ The phrase was on the tip of his tongue as he stared back at him. The blue of Louis’ eyes as gentle and calm as the depths of the English sea. Harry was lost in them as his own welled with anticipation. _Let’s get married_ , he repeated to himself, _let’s get married, let’s get married, just say it._

Before he could move his lips to speak, their world was shattered by a piercing telephone ring. Both of them cringed at the high strung sound and how it never seemed to cease.

“Are you expecting someone? Or something?” Louis asked a bit annoyed.

“Umm,” Harry struggled to reel himself back into a universe that homed more than only them. “No, no. I’m not expecting anything, m’not sure who that is.”

“It’s probably Fionn, then.” Louis sighed. “I told him to call us as soon as he found Nick, so we knew if he had someplace to stay to stay or not.”

“Oh,” Harry moved from atop of him. “Y’might want to get that then.”

Harry helped him up from his sprawled position on the ground, pulling him into his chest, and kissing him before sending him off to reach the telephone.

His heart was still racing, and he wondered if Louis felt it at all. If he did, he didn’t mention it, and he let Harry take a moment to himself to help calm his jittering hands. He was so nervous. So _excited._ He had the whole afternoon and evening to try again, and he knew one thing for certain, he’d spit it out the next time around.

 

\--

 

“Mm, no more, honey. Please?”

Harry moaned around a mouthful strawberries and cakes gluttonously coated in bitter chocolate. His stomach bloated with sugar beneath the bath salted water and suds, as Louis leaned over him to feed him once more.

“Just one more, this one has nuts.”

Louis pouted, pushing the candied strawberry gently against his lips. Harry smiled, poking out his tongue and letting Louis feed him, juices slipping past his berry stained lips. The bath water they shared was only a notch above warm. Time spent bathing was mostly occupied by Louis’ force feeding of decadent sweets.

“This one is quite good actually,” Harry chewed the last bits and swallowed thickly. “Taste it.”

“I’d rather taste you instead,” Louis leaned in, kissing the smirk off Harry’s face and dipping his tongue in ceaselessly. “ _Mmm_ ,” he moaned around a sticky smack of the lips. “It _is_ quite good.”

“Come here,” Harry laughed as Louis made a splash to straddle his waist, tossing the strawberry beyond where his eyes could see.

Louis nuzzled into him. Nose tracing against Harry’s damp neck all the way up to where his cheek pit, dimple unabashed. Harry took some time to pet him, rubbing his hands up and down Louis’ sides and slipping them down against his wetness of his thighs.

It was somewhat dreamlike to be able to feel him again. Palms sunk into the flesh of his body and time gone completely uninterrupted.

Harry kissed him slow. A gentle peck of the lips as his hands dug into him beneath the water. Louis squirmed as he allowed his figure to be explored, leaning back and pressing in as Harry familiarized himself once again.

“What are you thinking about, Harry? Tell me everything on your mind.”

“You,” he answered against his chest, lips dotting the expanse of him. “How it feels to hold you, how I’ll never get used to being without you, how moments like this are sweeter because we go so long apart.”

Louis breathed in deep, carding his fingers through Harry’s hair and cradling him against his chest.

“I knew what I was getting into, falling in love with a music man. I always knew they’d keep you far away from me and I always knew there was a chance you’d forget about me.”

Harry wrapped his arms tight around Louis and let his scalp remain caressed.

“Sometimes it feels like they almost have you, like you’ve almost forgotten how to say my name, but then you speak it, and you touch me all the same, and I know I have you all over again.”

“You always have me,” Harry mouthed against the dip in Louis’ collarbones. “You know you have me, right?”

“I know I do, I just worry that someday you’ll see me as a stranger. That distance and time will change the way you perceive me.” Louis pulled his head back, allowing them to stare in each other’s eyes. “But then you touch me and I feel no such thing. And you whisper my name and every last fear of mine is vanquished. You’re absolutely right about these moments being sweeter, and I’d ache for them anytime.”

Harry grinned back at him and all of his vulnerability. He kissed his cheek once, and cupped him by the back of the neck.

“I love you,” he promised before kissing Louis’ truth bitten lips. “Let me put an end to all those worries, yeah? Or at least let me try.”

“Harry I can’t ask that of you. I just wanted to be open and honest, I didn’t want you to quit your career over this.”

“I’m not going to,” Harry smiled, something knowing in the crook of it. “Just give me a chance to show you.”

“What do you mean? Show me what?”

Harry reached backwards against the en suite counter, and felt for his wrist watch sitting dry.

“Perfect,” he mumbled as he caught sight of the time. “Go get dressed, darling.”

Harry removed the drain stopper with the ball of his foot and carefully moved Louis from on top of him. Harry slid out of the tub one foot at a time, splashing around and avoiding Louis’ grumbling.

“Harry, wait,” he called from inside of the tub as he got to his knees. “Where are we going? What are you doing—“

“Just trust me.” Harry smiled manically, lending his hand to Louis to help him out. “Just throw on your most comfortable clothes and I’ll take you there, yeah? Let me do this for us.”

Louis winced at him suspiciously, but said no more. Their fingers laced as their shivering bodies drenched the floor. Harry wrapped him up tight, pressing his body heat into the naked skin of his boy. Their mouths attached shortly and in a hurry as Harry pulled them both along into their hotel bedroom.

It was about time this happened, and Harry didn’t have a moment to waste.

 

\--

 

Lips tugged harsh by teeth, Harry kept their kiss locked and Louis’ attention on him. Harry pulled all the right moves to keep Louis’s eyes rolled back and fluttered shut on the ride to their location. Their driver was proper blushing by now, but Harry couldn’t be arsed. He needed the element of surprise on his side and what better way to distract his boy than with his mouth?

Harry felt the car roll to a stop as it idled in front of the building. He slowed his lips against Louis’ and rested his forehead gently against his.

“Close your eyes.” Harry murmured.

“They are closed,” Louis smiled, Harry felt it. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to distract me.”

“I wasn’t,” Harry lied, grin polishing his words. “I just….fucking love kissing you.”

Harry kissed him again, punctuating his point with puckered lips. He carefully ushered Louis out of the car, cradling his head for him, and directing every last step until both were stood on the pavement. Harry slipped back in, paying the driving and sending him on his way.

Louis stood there anxious, lips and fingers twisting in anticipation. Harry chuckled through his nose as he walked around him, hand guiding him forward at the dip of his back.

“God it smells like rubbish out here, where are we—“

“Oi, keep your eyes closed!”

Harry giggled as he cupped his own hand around Louis’ eyes, sure that he was kept in the dark. The door was just up ahead. Harry used his free hand to tug it open before gently walking Louis down the hall.

The owner of the establishment nodded at him from behind the bar, a silent question of whether this was _it._ Harry nodded twice, hand still covering Louis’ eyes. The stocky man shot a thumbs up Harry’s way, switching out an old tape from the sound system with a new one. He didn’t looked too pleased to be doing this for him, but everyone had a price, and Harry could more than compensate.

“Can I open now?” Louis asked a bit anxious.

“In a second,” Harry whispered, using his free hand to the man to get on with it. “In a second, baby.”

“ _Harrrry_ ,” Louis whined, exaggerated. “Where are we?”

“You’ll see,” Harry soothed, kissing him at the back of his neck.

Harry kept his eyes on the man as he pressed play, a two finger salute sent his way as he went through the back to exit the building. A woman’s voice began to [croon ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tIUf6dOGc1c)through the system, Louis’s body tensing in familiarity.

“Okay,” Harry whispered. “Open your eyes.”

Hands drawn back carefully, Harry leaned over Louis’ shoulder to watch his reaction. The once dingy pub was blanketed in rose petals and tea lights, the atmosphere dim and romantic, and completely rid of its Sunday evening patrons.

It was almost unidentifiable compared to the last time both of them were here. If anything, Harry was afraid Louis _wouldn’t_ recognize it.

“Babe…” Louis exhaled, turning around into Harry’s arms. “Is this….is this where we first met?”

Harry smiled, love welling in his eyes. “It is.”

“How did—“ Louis cut himself off, dragging his awed eyes around the room. “How did you do all of this? How did you get it all done? It’s gorgeous, Harry.”

“I had a bit of help.” Harry wrapped Louis’ arms around his neck, placing his own around Louis’ hips. “While we were having a bath, this was being set up.”

“Was it Je—“

“Mmm, _shh_ , please. Let’s not talk about _him_ right now. Not during a moment so pure.” Harry laughed and Louis buried his giggles into his chest. “Let’s just—May I have this dance?”

Harry bent down, kissing the crown of Louis’ nodding head.

The tempo of the song carried their feet, romantic twang pulling them close and keeping them tied. Louis dug his fingers into the collar of Harry’s jacket, hopefully unable to feel the heat and apprehension collected beneath it.

Harry’s chest was pounding, and the warmth of his palms turned clammy against Louis’ waist, but the feel of him brought him comfort. The pattern of his blissful sigh had Harry’s insides fluttering.

_To know, know, know him is to love, love, love him_

_Just to see him smile, makes my life worthwhile._

“I remember the first time you sang this to me,” Louis picked up his head from Harry’s chest, tender love trapped in the colours of his eyes. “I know you weren’t actually singing to me, but I still like to pretend you were.”

_I'd be good to him, I'd bring love to him_

_Everyone says there'll come a day when I'll walk alongside of him._

“Maybe a part of me was.” Harry beamed down at him. “I had never even played that song before that night.”

“Really?” Louis asked, Harry nodded. “Hmm, maybe it was fate, then.”

“Of course it was. It’s what brought me to you.”

Louis chuckled through his nose, failing to bite down on his own smile. “Don’t be a sap you’re killing the mood.”

Harry pinched at Louis’ hip, but let it be. Louis laid his head against his chest once more and let Harry eliminate any space left between them. Their steps were off. The music picked up a bit on its own, but they swayed all the same.

“This place looks a bit different from the last time I saw it,” Louis sighed as they danced along. ”I reckon we look a bit different too.”

“I reckon we do,” Harry smiled, nostalgic. “My hair was a bit longer then, and messier, and curlier, and your clothes didn’t fit as well back then. You were just as pretty as you are now, though. That will never change.”

Louis leaned up stealing trail of kisses to the column of Harry’s neck, nipping in time with the tune. “You’re pretty too.”

_To know him is to love him_

_And I do, yes I do_

Louis and Harry lulled in their embrace. Feet hardly moving across the petal ridden floor as the song ended and began again. Louis snickered at that. The short lived melody being the only song looped on the tape. It would begin to drive him mad in a minute, but as for now, they indulged in it.

Harry sang the words to him softly against the shell of his ear. Mouth opening no wider than a whisper. The tenderness wasn’t meant for the walls and stools around them, it was meant for Louis only.

He slid out from under him, catching Louis an arms length apart, fingers curled tightly around each other. He spun him once, and spun him twice, and went for a third but stopped him halfway - hands clasping and lacing around his waist.

Harry tucked his chin over Louis’ shoulder, chest pressing warm against his back. The two of them swayed like the sea.

“What’s all of this for?” Louis leaned his head back, eyes searching reason. “What possessed you to pull off something so elaborate?”

“This is all for you, baby. You know this.” Harry pushed through a stutter and masked his nerves with a kiss. “Can’t I just do nice things for my boy? Am I allowed to make a nice little anniversary for you and me?”

“You are, but you’ve looked a bit green since we left.” Louis pried with a twinkle to his eye. “What are you hiding from me, darling?”

Harry swallowed. “I’m not... _hiding_ anything...really.”

“Then why are you breathing so heavily? Why are your big clammy hands shaking?”

Louis tilted his head back, cocky little smile dancing gracefully upon his lips. Harry kissed it off him. Both laughing into the crash of their lips.

“D’you really want to know?”

“Mhmm.” Louis giggled as Harry squeezed him in his hold.

“Even before we’ve finished this dance?”

“It’s not much of a dance if m’not facing you. This is really just a cuddle.”

Harry spun him in his arms, clutching him by the waist, and calming at the sight of his expression. He was so clearly smitten. A mirror image to everything Harry has ever felt for him. He wasn’t nervous anymore.

“Alright,” Harry dimpled, dipping down for one last kiss. “follow me, then.”

Harry laced a hand in Louis’s and led him slowly across the dance floor. His heart matched in time with their footsteps. Steady and gliding.

Harry reached the side door, holding it open for Louis and shutting it carefully behind them. The music continued, muffled by the pub walls.

“D’you remember this spot?” Harry grinned as Louis leaned against the wall and pulled Harry towards him.

“I do,” Louis said. “It's not the most romantic place to attempt to court someone, but it seemed to work in my favour.”

“It did.” Harry breathed, attempting not to choke. “It really, _really,_ did.

“You all right?”

“I’m perfect,” Harry whispered. “I’m just overwhelmed by my love for you.”

Louis beamed up at him, amber alley lights kissing the heat of his cheeks. Harry couldn’t have dreamed up a more picturesque moment to reach into his pocket, and drop down on one knee.

Louis gasped sharply, small hands reaching up to cover his dropped open mouth.

“Harry— _Harry_ wha—“

“You’re it for me, Louis. Distance has never taken the place of you.” Harry prayed he made sense, words from the heart spilled out before him. “Even when you aren’t physically there, you’re bathing in the rose garden of my mind.”

Louis stood there, shaking around a smile. Rarely speechless.

“I never want you to worry about us drifting. It’s a part of who we are, and what our dreams require, but you’ll always be my rainbows end, and I want you to know my perception of you has never and will ever change.”

Harry pulled his hand from his pocket. The ring he promised nearly seven years ago pinched carefully between his fore and thumb.

“Let’s get married,” Harry finally spoke. “Let’s make this promise to each other regardless if its lawful or not. Let’s spend the rest of our lives adoring each other.”

“I was ready to do that anyway.” Louis’ voice cracked with emotion.

“Please,” Harry reached for Louis’ hand, carefully caressing his ring finger. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Louis croaked, smile breaching the lines of his eyes. “of course I will, Jesus.”

Harry slipped the customized ring around Louis’ finger, Golden band catching in the moonlight. Louis threw himself around him. Their bodies quivering with happiness and the feel of sweet laughter.

Louis kissed him hard. Lips pressed up against each other, he cut the kiss short, admiring the subtle shine of his ring.

“Where’s yours, where’s yours? I want to slip it on for you!” Without a chance to react Louis dug his own hand in Harry’s pocket, fishing out the second ring and examining it closely. _Styles._ “Oi Love, I think you gave me yours.”

Both of them succumbed to their laughter as Louis slipped his own off, reading out the engraved name _Tomlinson_.

“Shit, sorry, I was just so anxious. I couldn’t wait to get a ring around you.” Harry breathed deeply, slipping the correct one back around Louis, and watching as Louis did the same to him. “You know I don’t expect you to take my last name, yeah?”

“I know, and I don’t expect you to take mine.”

“The engraved rings are enough for me, if they are for you.”

“Of course they are, darling.” Louis grinned, holding both of their ring clad hands and marveling at the sight of them. “When did you get these? I was with you for most of your European tour.”

“Actually, ehm. I got them the day after I promised them to you about six-odd years ago. Remember that shitty flat we lived in? The one not to far from here?”

“You’ve had them for _that_ long?”

“I have,” Harry chuckled, embarrassed. “These actually broke the bank back then, but. I knew the investment was worth it.”

Louis shook his head, dimple still prominent in the pit of his cheek. He kissed Harry’s hand, lips repeatedly pressing against the gold of his fingers.

“I love you.” he mumbled through kisses leading up to Harry’s lips. “I love you, I love you, I love you. God I had no fucking idea.”

“I love you, too.” Harry punctuated with a kiss to Louis’ smiling lips. “I always knew we would get here, I just wasn’t sure when. M’sorry I took so long, but if it’s any consolation, I asked for next year off so I can travel to your film sets with you, and spend some time with my fiancé.”

“You did?” Louis lit up, beautifully. “Babe, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to, you're so much more important than being crammed into a studio. And although it’s not completely approved yet, Jeff is going to fight for it.”

“Wow,” Louis giggled. “Is he going to be our minister as well?

“God, no.” Harry laughed along with him. “But he’ll definitely receive an invitation to whatever it is that we decide to do.”

“Mm, we’ll have plenty of time for that.” Louis kissed Harry silent. Lips nipping against his in the yearning type of way. “Take us back inside, yeah? I want to have a naughty celebration with my _fiancé._ ”

“You don’t want to call a cab and wait until we’re back at the hotel?”

“No, you can still do that,” Louis winked. “But either way, I'd like to get started now.”

“Say no more,” Harry laughed, dipping down to kiss Louis gently, and guide him back in through the door. “I love you so much, baby. That's never going to change.”

“I know it won’t.” Louis explained as he walked back into the pub. “It will never change for me either.”

 

***


	6. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd once again. I hope you enjoy.

**July 1st, 1978**

Shoved in the corner of a midnight pub, Harry found himself nearing the end of his fourth live performance of the day. Fingers strummed to the bone and voice sung to its chords, it was a bit much for a days worth of singing. He had to take what he could get - the bills refused to sit around and wait for his big break.

The room was dim and crowded with patrons that paid him no mind. It was quite the filthy place. One that stuck to the bottoms of your soles and smelled of cheap pints and rubbish.

Harry strummed his guitar quietly, eyes scanning the depths of the room. Every head faced away from him, some were even thrown back in laughter. He could likely slip out of here unnoticed. He already collected his payment and his half empty jar of tips.

As he pondered over his options, a lad around his age approached him, cigarette balanced between his lips and one pint in hand.

“Hey,” he smiled politely, slowly fishing out a couple of pounds from his trousers and carefully bending down to slip them into his jar. “Y’alright?”

Harry’s sights caught on the edge of his smile, wondering if he was only sympathetic or genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, mate. All is well.” he paused, looking down at his tip jar. “Thanks for that.”

Harry looked back up just as the lad closed his lips around his lit cigarette and took a lingering drag. His skin seemed to glisten in the pub lights.

Harry paused his strumming, letting himself glance over the subtle daintiness of his wrists, and the way he cocked his slender hips. His arms were quite smooth and his shirt fit loose across his chest. The dip of it revealed more faultless skin, golden and dusted with light strands of hair. The lad looked back at him, eyebrow raised as he exhaled his smoke, lips curling around a smirk. Harry blushed involuntarily, completely unsure of what made its way under his skin.

“S’no problem, you’re very talented.” his northern accent dipped low as he slowly began to step back towards the masses. “Have a good night.”

If Harry wasn’t caught watching him walk away, he could swear he had seen him throw a wink.

“ _ Shit _ ,” he mumbled under his own breath, pressing a palm to his eye.

It was late and he was tired. He convinced himself it was only natural for him to feel a bit odd and to imagine things that clearly weren’t there - like the warmth that spread from his chest down to the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t there. It  _ wasn’t. _

He forced himself out of it. Whatever  _ it _ was.

“If anyone is still paying attention, I have one more song before I go.” Harry flicked his outgrown curls off his shoulders, adjusting the strap of his old worn out guitar, and shaking himself back to life. “It’s a bit of an older tune,” he mumbled. “But I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

 

\--

 

“Fuck,  _ me _ .”

Harry threw his head back in frustration. His earnings from the evening not even enough to afford him a cab ride home. Something that seemed to be happening a bit more frequently.

From the pocket of his shirt, Harry pulled out a cigarette, nearly dropping it from the shake of his calloused hands. He stood there in the dark alley of the pub. Head swimming with stress, worry, and a lingering hint of defeat. He was tired. Bloody exhausted. His eyes nearly welled at the threat of losing it all including his sanity.

Before he could search for a light, the door beside him burst open. Out stumbled the lad from before, hopeful blue eyes and soft skin.

“Shit, sorry mate.” the boy apologized, fixing himself and ceasing his steps towards Harry. “Are you out here with someone?”

“Nope.” Harry clipped, teeth clenched around his fag, irritation still clear in his tone.

His hands searched his pockets for a lighter of some sort. Shirt and trousers coming up empty on all ends. Harry exhaled a full body sigh, attempting to calm himself where his unlit cig could not. His body shook against the pub wall, his face contorted in pain, and he was about ready to crumble.

He was so incredibly  _ tired. _

“Here,” Harry heard the soft sound from the lips of a stranger.

Out held to him was a thumb and a lighter, flame glowing orange in between them. The lad before him stepped in close, body nearly curled into Harry’s.

Harry eyed him, brows caught between distinguishing his motives and checking him out - in a cautious way, of course.

Carefully, Harry leaned in. The flame caught to the edge of his cigarette and lit it up as he inhaled. The lad smirked back at him. His face a blush tone beneath the moonlight. Harry couldn’t help but smile back.

“What’s your name?” he asked as Harry plucked the cigarette from his lips.

“Harry,” he exhaled, blowing the smoke away from the boy. “Yours?”

“Louis.” he answered simply as he pinched Harry’s cig between his own fingers and pressed it up against his lips.

Louis.  _ Louis _ . Had a nice sound to it.

“Do you normally take fags off of strangers,  _ Louis _ ?”

“No,” he smiled as he inhaled, embers of the ash blowing away with the breeze. “But I gave you a light so sharing is the least you can do.”

Harry’s own laughter caught him a bit off guard. It wasn’t the funniest joke he ever heard, but his abrupt snort may have convinced him otherwise. Maybe he  _ was _ losing it.

The boy -  _ Louis - _ passed it back to him, a little ring of pink coating the very end. Harry wondered if the taste of it was sweet.

“I like the last song you played,” Louis looked up at him through his lashes, a thing Harry wasn’t even aware boys could do. “Is there someone at home that you sing it to?”

“That’s a bit personal, innit?” Harry grinned as he stuck the end of his cigarette in his mouth and let it dangle there. “We were only just acquainted moments ago.”

“Well, you practically just put your lips on mine, so I think that make us closer in a way.”

Harry’s heart ceased in his chest as he spluttered around Louis’s words. Never has a stranger made themselves so comfortable with him in such a short amount of time, especially not with a line like that. Never a boy, at least. Harry felt a bit nervous. Every muscle in his body tightened with some sort of realization. He didn’t mind the feeling, however.

“I’ve never kissed another lad,” Harry admitted lowly, sucking harsh on the cigarette to muddle his words.

“No?” Louis questioned. “You sing enough about them it seemed quite the opposite to me.”

“That’s just….that’s just a pronoun thing. I don’t like changing the original ones, it messes with the integrity of the song.”

“Oh,” Louis seemed to curl in on himself, somewhat embarrassed, somewhat afraid. “I...okay, I didn’t mean any harm. I was just—I’m sorry. I’ll go.”

As Louis moved in a hurry towards the door, Harry let his cigarette drop from his lips, and stubbed it against the cobblestone pavement.

“You don’t have to go anywhere.” Harry called out with a quiver to his voice, some sort of bravery taking over him. Louis looked back at him, worry entrapped in his eyes. “I was actually enjoying your company.”

Louis hesitantly looked back at him, one hand clenched around the door knob, the other clenched around itself. Harry approached him carefully. Each step closer to him somehow creating more tension.

“Are you bothered that I’m queer?” Louis asked and tensed as Harry leaned his shoulder against the door next to him. “I really don’t want any trouble, I just thought—I don’t know. The way you sang that last song about loving another man was just….”

“I’m not bothered.” Harry assured, tucking a stray curl away. “I was—I was actually, erm. I was just about to head out and I live pretty far away from here. I was going to ask if you were familiar with the area or if maybe if you knew a place where I could grab a quick cuppa before my trek home.”

Louis stared back at him, skeptical. Harry just leveled with him, leaning his head against the door and letting his curls sweep into his eyes. He was just as nervous as Louis looked. He never made a move on another lad before now, and he wasn’t even sure Louis picked up on it like that.

Harry smiled back at him softly, hoping to convey sincerity. His heart leaped into his throat as Louis’s fingers swept against his forehead, pushing his outgrown curls back into place.

“I might know of a place,” he grinned bashful, big eyes blue. “But you’ll have to keep it between us, yeah? It’s quite the exclusive.”

Harry wished he could speak. Tongue tied in a knot of thrill and apprehension, he swallowed around everything he once knew and decided to go for it.

“Yeah, um—s’it alright if I bring Stella along?”

Louis’s smile dropped, Harry nearly snickered out loud.

“Who?”

“Stella,” Harry repeated. “My guitar.”

Louis rolled his eyes in frustration, crossing his arms over his chest as he bit down on a smile. Harry fully laughed at that, catching both of them off guard with the warmth of it.

“You’re one bad joke away from being left alone.” Louis stepped closer into Harry’s space, intoxicating him with aura.

“But I’m also one  _ good _ joke away from making you laugh.” Harry effortlessly flirt despite the waves of nerves sloshing around inside of him. Louis’s smile made it all a bit easier.

“Grab Stella and let’s go.”

Harry somehow found a way to drag himself away from Louis, walking the few steps back to his original spot. He felt lighter on his toes - felt high with exhilaration. The smile on his lips bubbled to the surface, and for once, he refused to bite down on it.

As he grabbed his guitar case from the side of the building, Harry realised he had completely forgotten about his troubles and his mood was entirely lifted. All because of a pretty stranger. A boy who held him captive.

Everything he ever learned told him this was wrong, and that every crystal clear feeling of fondness was nothing more than a filthy sin. It was terrifying. Slightly nauseating. But Harry couldn’t stay away and was only drawn to the boy.

It felt right. It felt  _ natural _ . The way he moved towards him seemed to almost be on instinct.

“I’m ready when you are.” Harry grinned with his case strapped over his back, heart pounding and waiting for Louis to lead the way.

“It’s not too far from here.” he walked right up to Harry, purposely invading his space, and smirked at just how little it took to make Harry sweat. “Follow me.”

 

\--

 

Sat nervous on the cushion of Louis’s sofa, Harry awaited Louis’ arrival with his second cup of tea. His flat was tiny and intimate. Every bit exclusive Louis promised it to be.

Harry didn’t mean for his invitation to lead them into Louis’s home, but he figured there weren’t many places this side of London where two men could just grab tea together. The small space seemed to make room for them, though. Too big for one and too small for three. The two of them fit perfectly. It was thrillingly cozy. Now if only Harry could manage to get his shaking hands under control.

“Here you are, love.” Louis spoke gently in the quiet room, handing over a steaming cup of tea.

Harry reached out as quick as possible, trying to mask his quiver with the speed of his hands. It didn’t quite work, however. Tea sloshed over onto his trousers and briefly burned against his thigh.

“Oi, y’alright? I’m sorry—“

“No, no, I’m fine, darling. I’m fine. That was me. Sorry.”

Harry smiled tightly up at him, brows still pinched in pain. Louis hesitated at first but eventually just went with it. He rounded the small coffee table, coming to take his original spot next to Harry. The scorch of his tea was nothing in comparison to the flaming feel of Louis curling up to his side.

Louis was everything soft. The grey joggers he slipped into, the gentle curve of his belly that his cropped shirt revealed, his messy hair, his tea warm lips, the way his knee dug into Harry’s side without pain. Harry was suffocating in his warmth. His nervous hands went mad with wanting to touch.

“Tell me more about your love for music,” Louis took a sip of his tea and set it down against against the table, further cuddling into Harry’s side. “I know you’ve been performing since you were a kid but like, what’s your favorite song to play? What’s a song you’ll never get tired of?”

“Well, ehm,” Harry stuttered, trying to keep a still grip on his piping hot mug. “I um, I really like how it f-feels to play my own original songs. I think if—if people knew the words to my songs, I’d never grow tired of that. But, you know, here we are. I haven’t written an original song in ages, let alone performed one.”

“M’sorry to hear that. I know it can be hard for a struggling artist.” Louis sympathized. “I’m going through a bit of that myself.”

“I thought you said you enjoyed doing a bit of independent film?” Harry asked, setting down his mug.

“I do, I do, don’t get me wrong, but I feel as though it’s limiting. Like, this is something I could get trapped in and I’d never find my way to the big screen. I want to make it there, it’s always been a dream of mine, but dreaming of that moment isn’t exactly going to pay my rent, yeah?”

Harry could relate all too well.

“We’ll get there,” Harry smiled, nerves still tucked in the corners of it. “Maybe our paths will cross again in Hollywood.”

“Hollywood?” Louis asked perplexed. “You don’t have any plans to see me again between now and then?”

Harry swallowed hard, cursing his unfiltered mouth for spitting that out.

“No—I mean, no—of course, I would. I would love too. I just meant it as like, we’ll both make it someday, and we’ll meet again over there. I’m not—I didn’t mean I wouldn’t fancy seeing you again—“

“Harry, relax,” Louis snorted under his breath, one hand coming down upon Harry’s shoulder to soothe him. “I’m only joking.”

Harry tried for a laugh but it only came out as an uneasy huff. His eyes flicked from Louis’ and down to his hands tangled in knots and his knee bouncing away. He was so  _ bloody _ nervous.

“Sorry,” he coughed. “I’m just….I’m new to this.”

“I’m only human, love. I don’t bite.” Louis giggled as he stroked his fingertips up the back of Harry’s neck. “Unless, of course, you want me too, then all you have to do is ask.”

Silence stretched on between them. Moments of tension weighing Harry down with indecisiveness. He could run out of here easily and avoid his awkward behavior entirely, or he could man up and speak to the boy like a normal human being, or he could just sit right here, as he is. Frozen.

“Harry,” Louis beckoned, turning Harry’s chin towards him. “Are you alright? Seriously, you look a bit ill.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just nervous s’all.”

Louis looked at him with fondness. A careful curve to his smile. He made Harry’s heart absolutely flutter.

“Let’s relax you a bit, come on.” Louis pulled Harry’s hands from his lap and tugged on them until they adjusted their seating. The two of them sat crossed legged across from each other. “I know you’ve never kissed a boy, but have you ever held hands with one? Like proper romantic and that?”

“Um,” Harry laughed, slightly embarrassed. “No, I haven’t. I’ve actually never really admitted to liking boys up until now. Not out loud at least.”

“That’s okay.” Louis smiled back, kindness in his eyes. “Hold hands with me, then. See how you like it.”

Harry knew that he didn’t need to feel to be able to tell if he liked it or not. He liked everything about Louis. Even liked the way Louis made him impossibly nervous. A part of him knew even before he touched him, he would want to hold on for longer than a night.

Louis slid his hands out to him, placing his palms upward in Harry’s lap. It was quite hard to take in the shape of his delicate hands without squealing. Harry reached out and stroked his palms with the pads of his fingers, chills rolling down his spine from just from a caress of his skin.

Their fingers laced at an awkward angle. Harry couldn’t breathe.

“Y’like that?” Louis asked carefully.

Harry let his thumbs glide over the rise and fall of Louis’s knuckles. Heart rate picking up with every circular motion drawn into his skin.

Holding hands was nothing new to him, but this felt like an entirely different experience, and it gently rocked Harry’s world.

“Your hands fit quite nicely in mine,” Harry marveled without filter. “I-I like that.”

“I like it too.”

The soft tone of his voice and his precious smile were meant to calm Harry, but it only made him shiver. Every fiber of his being wanted more of him. All his thoughts were consumed by what his wrists would feel like, what his arms would feel like, what his neck, chest, and shoulders would feel like. He wondered if his legs were unkempt or kept smooth in the summer. He wondered if his musk was somewhat like his own or would drive him mad with lust.

Harry breathed heavy in his place, doing his absolute best as to not come off as strange. He wanted more, and he knew his hands would continue to shake with it until he got it.

“Can I—“ Harry cut himself off, nerves nearly taking over him. “Can I, like….  _ shit. _ ”

“Go on,” Louis smiled, somewhat teasing. “Tell me what you want.”

Harry’s stomach knotted at his confidence. Louis  _ knew _ he was desired. He  _ knew  _ just how badly Harry wanted him. Either of them were clearly aware that Harry was struggling and it wasn’t something he was used to.

“I…” Harry fumbled with the skin of his lips. His eyes avoiding Louis’ and his hands becoming hot in their hold. “I can’t. Nevermind.”

Harry withdrew his hands from Louis’, bringing them up to rub manically at his eyes. He felt like such a tosser, and he buried his head in the shame he felt. When did he become such a bloody nervous wreck?

“Can I try something then?” Louis asked politely, sitting perfectly still where Harry left him.

Harry removed his hands from his face, taking in the vision before him. Louis sat proper, lips bitten, and eyes pleading.

“Um, sure. Yeah.” Harry answered pathetically.

Before Harry had time to dwell over the misleading unsureness of his voice, Louis was crawling carefully into his lap, one knee placed on either side. Harry nearly choked. His will to breathe cut short by the weight of Louis’s bum dropping down on him.

“Is this okay?” Louis made sure, hands placed unmoving on Harry’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” Harry went breathless. “You’re um—you’re completely fine. You’re great. This is better than okay—”

“You’re so fit,” Louis  _ moaned _ . Utterly shocking Harry into silence as he slid his tender hands around his neck. “You’re the only bloke this side of London that I’ve had eyes for. And you can sing too. Mmmm.”

Louis moaned out his words again, doing everything to successfully distract Harry from his apprehension, and lure him into arousal.

“I just want to run my hands through your curls,” Louis smiled, one hand coming up to twist a lock around his fingers. “They’re so long and pretty. I bet you like how it feels when they’re pulled.”

Harry let his eyes briefly flutter shut. He was mildly overwhelmed by the sensation of his words and the weight of another man in his lap.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Louis whispered in the shell of Harry’s ear. The warmth of his breath stunning. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m doing fine, babe.” Harry huffed through a deprecating laugh. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just—I’m  _ good _ .”

“Put your hands on my waist.” He interrupted. “Softly.”

Harry swallowed around his ball of fear and uncurled his fidgeting fists. Louis’s hips were visible in front of him. Tan skin daring him to touch.

Harry reached out, fitting his clammy palms around him, fingers digging into his flesh on their own. Louis was curvy in his own right. Slender hips slotting perfectly into the wells of Harry’s hands.

“Have you always wanted to kiss a boy?”

Louis questioned as he ran his fingers through Harry’s curls, tugging just light enough to make his body quickly tense, and relax with pleasure.

“I, um. I haven’t always been honest with myself about it,” Harry hissed as Louis tugged a generous handful of his curls and moved his hands back down to his shoulders. “But y-yeah. Since I was just a lad even. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to kiss a boy, and if I would like it more than kissing girls.”

Harry left out that he never really enjoy that at all. Perhaps more than a few times, yes, but the connection was always off somehow.

“Mmm, it feels amazing.” Louis smiled freely, and brought his fingertips up and down the sides of Harry’s biceps. “Kissing is always fun, but there’s something so nice about having a fit lad like yourself grip me with his  _ big  _ hands, and burn my lips with the scruff of our face.”

Harry bit down desperately as Louis’s palms came to rest on his chest. Thumbs slowly caressing the clothed area of his nipples.

“Sounds like a good time,” Harry clenched his hands around Louis as his hips jerked forward on their own. “I’d really like to try it sometime,” he forced out bravely. “With you, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Me?” Louis giggled. “You want your first kiss with a man to be a stranger?”

“You won’t be a stranger for long.”

Without a second thought, Harry leaned forward, and closed the space between them. Louis made a sound of utter surprise, but quickly melted into it.

His lips were as soft as all the others, but sweeter somehow. The push of his mouth was gentle and tentative, yet bolder somehow. The scruff of his upper lip rubbed against Harry’s. Their kiss like a flame burning on pure desire.

Harry’s hands demanded more of him. They followed the curve of Louis’s sides, gliding effortlessly against his flanks. His body was so lithe and so smooth and it was only by instinct that Harry took a strong hold on him.

“You’re good at this.” Louis whispered as their slick lips separated.

“I’ve had a bit of practice,” Harry humorlessly joked. “Kiss me, again.”

Louis giggled into it, lips pressing firmly against Harry’s.

The route of his hands gravitated back south. Every knob and dip fitting perfectly beneath Harry’s hands. He stopped just above the waistline of Louis’s joggers, unsure of where his boundaries lied.

Harry’s mouth opened just as Louis’ did. There was something shy about the way he kissed, despite his show of confidence just moments ago.

Harry brought a hand up to the back of his neck and pulled him forward. Hips slotting together in a match made embrace. Louis moaned around the feel of being handled and their tongues meeting for the first time. They both tasted like tea and passion, and neither one of them wanted to come up for air.

“You can touch me,” Louis rushed out. “If you’re comfortable, of course.”

Harry took the invitation and let both hands rest of the swell of Louis’ bum. It was  _ fantastic _ . Everything became too erotic, too fast, and Harry felt like coming in his pants any second now.

“Louis,” Harry breathed, taking a second to separate their lips, and regain himself a bit. “I really like you,” he kissed against the corner of his lips. “like, this really feels how a proper first kiss should. I’d like to kiss you all night, if you’ll have me.”

Louis whimpered as Harry kissed a trail down the lines of his neck, sucking hard where his throat met his collarbone. Louis reared back into Harry’s wandering hands and let their cocks drag over each other. Everything was a degree hotter than normal.

“I’d like that,” he swallowed. “I would—”

Harry took that as a yes and pushed forward, carefully laying Louis out on his back. His lips became nervous as he kissed further down. The nub of Louis’s nipple brushed against his lips and suddenly his knees gave out. The softness of his tummy caressing his red slick lips. It was far too overwhelming. Harry began to shake from above him.

“Wait,” Louis called out, bringing Harry’s attention to the sound of his voice. “I wasn’t finished. I-I’d really like to do this with you, but I don’t even know your last name.”

“It’s Styles,” Harry uttered out embarrassingly. “My name is Harry Styles.”

Louis giggled up at him, smile beaming bright inside the dim room.

“ _ Harry Styles _ ,” he repeated. “That’s a cute little rockstar name you’ve got there.”

“It’s the name I was given at birth. I can’t help how it sounds.”

Both of them smirked into their next kiss, naturally falling into each other. Harry pressed his weight into Louis. Bodies aligned like the stars. Their tongues moved gracefully in their own dance as Harry relaxed into him. Louis wrapped his arms and legs around him, holding Harry too tight.

“I need to know that I’ll hear from you in the morning,” Louis whispered a bit guarded. Almost afraid. “You say you like me, and I believe that you do, but I just want to be sure that I won’t be used as just another one off again. I just—I really like you too. And I’d like it even more if you and I went somewhere. We can kiss as much as you’d like but, I don’t want to go any further until you at least know my last name too.”

Harry looked back at him, sympathetic.

_ Again _ , Louis’ voiced repeated in his head. Again could only have meant Louis has be used before. That someone big a rotten got their kicks out on him and left him longing for intimacy.

Harry didn’t want to be that person. Harry embarrassingly enough already had an entire future planned out with him.

“You’re not a one off with me,” Harry promised through careful lips. Nerves bubbling within his honesty. “I’d really like for us to go somewhere, as well. I want to know everything about you—everything you’ve ever suffered through. I want to tell you all my stories and I’d  _ really _ like to make new ones with you.”

Louis smiled up at him, trust and hope swimming in his eyes.

“I’d like that too.”

Harry kissed him on the mouth, once, twice, and ended with a kiss to his forehead. The moment was too tender. Too lovely and too sweet. Any other time Harry would fear the amount of adoration he had for one person, but somehow this felt right.

“Will you at least give me your number then?” Harry was hopeful as he spoke above him. “I’d really like to take you out tomorrow morning. Or talk to you at least.”

“Of course,” Louis agreed. “Just let me up and I’ll walk you out with it.”

Harry simply beamed as he crawled from off of Louis and helped him to his feet. They were snogging only moments ago but the atmosphere shifted into timidness. Something like the feel of speaking to the one you love for the first time. Something like excitement of the unknown.

Louis walked over to his desk to retrieve a slip of paper and a pen. Harry let his eyes linger on him as he bent down and began to scrawl out the numbers. His heart went mad with flutters. He could not believe he was actually this lucky.

Instead of standing useless, Harry went to grab his guitar, slinging it carefully over his back as he made his way towards Louis’s front door.

“Would you like me to call you a cab?” Louis asked as he set the pen down and began to walk over.

“No, that’s alright,” Harry stood in the doorway as Louis sauntered on over. “The walk home will do me well, I think. I need to calm this down anyway.”

“Mmm,” Louis looked down at his cock tenting desperately against his tight jeans, impressed. “Something to remember me by, then.”

Louis handed his number over by pressing the sheet into Harry’s groin. Harry groaned in sheer anguish, wishing he could thrust into the touch without ruining the paper.

“You filthy little tease,” Harry moaned out as he snatched the paper from his crotch. Louis giggled in response. “God, I can’t wait to have more of you.”

“Not until you know my initials.” Louis taunted as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck.

“If I guess them right will you let me back in?”

Both of them slipped into laughter as they hugged a goodbye.

“Not a chance.” Louis whispered into his ear. “I’m too eager to hear from you in the morning.”

“What is morning to you?” Harry asked. “Because I’ll stay up until then just to be the one to wake you.”

“Oi, don’t be a creep about it.” Louis joked comfortably. A really great sign for harry. “Just get some rest and call me when you wake up. I bet your sleepy voice is rather deep and sexy,  _ mmm _ .”

Harry blushed under his words and shook his head in laughter. His arms didn’t want to let go of him. His mouth didn’t want to stop kissing him. Alas, he slowly stepped out of their embrace and twisted the handle of the door.

“So I’ll see you soon, yes? This isn’t just a fake number?”

“Of course not,” Louis leaned against the open door. “Even if it was, you know where I live now.”

Harry stepped out onto the street, moonlight shining down on the heat of their skin. He didn’t want to say goodbye.  _ God _ , he didn’t want to leave.

“Do I get a goodnight kiss?” he begged. “Or at least one for the road?”

“How about both?”

Louis pulled him in by the strap of his guitar case, pressing their lips softly together. Neither of them could help themselves from the temptation to snog. Harry needed the taste of Louis left on his tongue if it was the last thing he would ever do and Louis was in love with kissing him.

Their lips separated with a smack. Both of them pressing in once more out of instinct. Harry laughed against Louis’s lips, bashful.

“I love,” Harry began, catching himself. “kissing you.”

“You’re such a sap.” Louis laughed through his nose. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call you a cab?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry pulled away, finally putting some space between them. “I’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” Louis smiled as he stepped back inside. “Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Harry caught the blush of Louis’ cheeks before he shut the door for the evening.

Harry thrust his fists in the air, quietly celebrating the beginning of what felt like true romance. His smile lit up the pavement as he made his unknown way back to his flat. Thoughts beautifully clouded by the sound of Louis’s sweet voice and hands clenched protectively over the paper of his phone number.

This felt like love. Louis oddly enough felt like home. Harry would not dare admit it out loud to him, but he could at least think it to himself.

He hoped Louis would answer in the morning. He hoped this evening would take them somewhere.

 

***

 

**July 2nd, 1978**

 

Harry woke in a panic, sunlight beaming brightly against his eyes. He stumbled quickly out of bed. Time on his watch reading just before nine in the morning. 

He wondered if it was too early to call. Wondered if he had even given Louis enough time sleep.

He paced the length of his bedroom. Only a few steps back and forth each. It was much too early to be caught up in a fuss over this. He was too old to feel this giddy and too old to have his heart stuck in his throat. It was only a phone call for fucks sake.

His eyes landed on the cord of his telephone, the look of it only drawing him nearer. Harry rehearsed his lines as he walked towards it, voice still presumably sleepy from spending the night memorizing his number. He twirled the cord around his fingers. His nerves crawling through his veins and causing him shake again.

_ Louis said to call him _ , Harry reminded himself,  _ Louis would really like to hear from you. _

Harry thought back to the night before and how Louis opened up to him. How he didn’t want to feel like a one off. He wanted to go somewhere with Harry.

In a moment of bravery, Harry picked up the phone. The urgent need to prove himself and give Louis what he needed, consuming him. He quickly dialed the line. Each monotone buzz like a shot of adrenalin to his heart. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his hand painfully around the phone. He was so bloody nervous, but knew as soon as Louis answered he would be at peace.

It almost seemed hopeless. It almost seemed as if he wasn’t going to answer. Apprehension under his skin began to constrict around his throat and it was nearly enough to make him hang up.

All came to a head and settled in his bones just as he heard his lover’s familiar croak.

“Hello?”

 

***

**Author's Note:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://www.smrwine.tumblr.com) | [ Fic Post ](http://smrwine.tumblr.com/post/172701371108/smrwine-into-the-midnight-sun-by-summerwine)


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